


After The Fact

by hrtiu



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Adopted Children, F/M, Garrus is clueless, Physical Disability, Pining, Trauma, a little lighter than canon-typical violence, adopted human and turian children, shepard loved garrus but never told him because bad timing and other things, sounds sad but i can't really write anything that sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-01-26 15:55:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21376681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hrtiu/pseuds/hrtiu
Summary: Shepard had made it through the war, and somehow found herself alive in the end, but what she’d had to do to make it through… It’d changed her. Eager to start a new life, desperate to make a positive impact on a more personal, less galactic level, Shepard adopted two children. Her life is starting to come together, but eventually she’ll have to deal with the scars she let fester for too long, and the friendship and love that she’d sacrificed along the way.
Relationships: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian
Comments: 47
Kudos: 88





	1. Chapter 1

Shepard recruited her family in much the same way she’d recruited her team. 

She found Cassia first, when they were recovering in the same field hospital, and later when they’d been put in the same amputee physical therapy group. The young turian had lost a leg and two parents when her ship had been shot down attempting to flee Earth’s atmosphere in the initial reaper assault, but she somehow still found a way to retain her poise and dignity in the mostly-human rehab facility. Though she was only nine years old and sported a fringe and crest, Shepard couldn’t help but see herself in Cassia. It certainly helped that, having lost both of her legs in the aftermath of the Crucible, Shepard and Cassia had more than a few health challenges in common.

Jun she found a few months later, in a rundown orphanage she’d been asked to visit to improve publicity and bring in more prospective parents. Shepard couldn’t point to anything particularly spectacular about Jun. He was around six years old with black hair and dark brown eyes, and he had a joyful smile that seemed to cut right through the bleak atmosphere of the orphanage. As soon as Shepard saw him, she knew he was meant to be a part of her family.

The Alliance set her and her new family up with what would have been considered a modest house in Vancouver, but post-war was practically a mansion. If it had just been her, Shepard would have been embarrassed to accept such lavish appointments, but suddenly assuming responsibility for two children’s lives had changed something in Shepard. She moved into the fancy house and accepted the heavy security detail without hesitation.

Cassia, Jun, and Shepard lived the first three years after the end of the war in that two-story home in one of the only non-demolished suburbs of Vancouer, and there they gradually learned to be a family. As the galaxy’s combined forces gradually re-established radio contact with other systems and rebuilt the mass relays, Shepard and Cassia continued physical therapy, Jun went to school and saw a therapist, and each member of the Shepard-Fedissian-Wang family learned how to move forward in their new lives both as individuals and as a unit. Shepard stayed in contact with some former members of her crew, most often Liara and Tali, with Joker following closely behind. Still, they always seemed to have to chase after her. Shepard was trying to focus on her new family, on her new life, and sometimes talking with the old crew brought back memories that were a little too raw. Shepard knew she couldn’t avoid the past forever, though. After three years, when Shepard had more or less recovered as much as she was likely to, the Alliance came knocking.

It was a non-combat position, involving a decent amount of political nonsense, but with low risk of orphaning Jun and Cassia a second time. A large part of Shepard wanted to refuse, wanted to tell Hackett that after all she'd done she deserved to retire. But a bigger part of her understood that people didn't get what they deserved. Had she deserved to survive the war any more than Kaidan had? Than Anderson? Than Thane? Or Legion? If she was allowed to survive, it only made sense for her to do something useful with herself. And as much as she loved spending time with Cassia and Jun, they were both in school. She was beginning to run out of things to do with her spare time. After a day of mulling it over and discussing with the kids, Shepard called Hackett back, and formally accepted the offer.

* * *

“‘Wilkins! Don’t walk through the portal! There’s no telling where it will take you!’ said Portia.

“But Wilkins knew he couldn’t live a life behind shut doors, couldn’t live a life of unanswered questions. Beyond the mini mass relay he’d found in his old uncle’s closet lay another world, and he was going to discover it. He took a deep breath, and stepped through the portal.”

Jun stared at the datapad containing his favorite story for a good ten seconds before looking up at Cassia.

“Ok, the next chapter’s yours.”

Cassia rolled her eyes and turned away from him in her seat, setting her own datapad on the table next to her.

“Do we have to read like this? I already know this story backwards and forwards. Jun has made us read it like twenty times.”

“We’ve only read it once before!” Jun objected.

“Cassia, it’s family time. Jun got to pick what we’re doing today, and you’ll get to pick tomorrow,” Shepard said.

She’d been working on her “motherly voice” voice for several years now, piecing it together from her imperfect memories of her own mother. It still didn’t feel quite right, but Cassia usually responded to the authoritative tone anyway.

“When do we reach the Citadel? This trip already feels  _ interminably  _ long,” Cassia said, continuing a habit she’d developed lately of throwing her newer vocabulary into casual conversation.

“We’ll be at the mass relay tomorrow. After that, we mostly just have to dock and start moving in.”

“Where’s our new place going to be? Andrea said there are a bunch of wards, and some of them are nicer than others.”

“We’ll be on Kithoi Ward. It’s the one that has been best restored since the war. You’ll like it, I promise.”

Shepard thought she might still technically own Anderson’s apartment, but she had no idea if the thing had been blown to bits or not. Even if it was still livable, she’d thought it would be nice to have a fresh start for the kids.

Jun huffed and set his datapad down, crossing his arms across his chest and pouting.

“You’re just trying to get out of reading, Cass. It’s family time, and it’s your turn to read.”

“Fine, fine,” Cassia said with a long-suffering sigh, picking up her datapad and scrolling to the next chapter.

“The first thing Wilkins noticed about this new world was how incredibly hot and humid it was. The second thing he noticed was the group of ten-foot tall green aliens circled around him, staring at him with wide black eyes…’”

* * *

The wards didn’t have an artificial day cycle imposed on them like the Presidium, but Cassia and Jun’s schools had regular schooldays, so throughout their journey to the Citadel, Shepard was sure to gradually adjust them to their new time zone. Shortly after Cassia finished up her chapter of Jun’s book (Wilkins was readily accepted by the green aliens he encountered, and was working on developing a system of communication with them), Shepard ordered them each to bed, shutting the lights off and tucking them in despite their protestations that they were too old for such treatment.

Shepard walked slowly through the passenger quarters of their moving ship, double checking their security systems and “securing the perimeter,” as she liked to think of it. Most families wouldn’t get a whole transport ship to themselves just to move, but most families weren’t Shepard’s. Her legs ached a bit from sitting so much, but she still kept her prosthetics on even after climbing into her cramped bed. At home she might take them off for the night, but old instincts wouldn’t permit her to let her guard down while she was in transit.

She eased herself into bed, both grateful for the mobility her artificial legs provided her and annoyed that with all of their technological advancements, humanity  _ still _ couldn’t make prosthetics that integrated  _ entirely _ seamlessly with the human body. Regardless, she was glad that she and Cassia could walk without any serious inhibitions.

Shepard checked her email as she lay in bed with the lights off. It was mostly boring but important stuff — notes from the movers on the Citadel about when and where they’d meet her the next day, instructions for Cass and Jun’s first day at school, paperwork she was supposed to fill out before starting her job, etc. etc. 

There was a note from Liara congratulating her on her move and asking her out for drinks whenever she had the time. Liara didn’t live on the Citadel, but she assured Shepard that she could make herself available whenever. Liara had a knack for countering all of Shepard’s avoidance tactics before she even had a chance to deploy them — something Shepard was grateful for. Shepard had had a hard time being social after the war, and if Liara hadn’t been so aggressive about it, their friendship might have faded. 

A similar message from Tali begged forgiveness for not being able to leave Rannoch in the near future, but promised a visit in the coming months. Tali had had a baby of her own the year before, and she was as eager for Shepard to meet her child as she was to meet Shepard’s.

Shepard responded to each email, taking the most time on the messages to Tali and Liara, then shut off her datapad. As she closed her eyes, a vision of Earth swam before her — a vision of the last time she had left Earth. She shook her head to clear her mind of the horrific memories. This time would be different. She was starting a new chapter of her and her family’s life, and that was a  _ good thing _ .

Eventually, she fell into a deep sleep. Her sleep was interrupted several hours later by a tinny, clinking sound, followed by a high-pitched hiss. Shepard startled awake, but barely had time to register the thick gas filling her cabin before she fell unconscious once more.

* * *

Consciousness returned first in a dim haze, then all at once as Shepard remembered the gas and her survival instincts kicked in. She jerked awake, but her movements were severely limited by the handcuffs that tied her hands behind her back. She shook her head and looked around her, unsurprised by the dull metal walls of the small room that served as her cell. She wondered for a minute why her captors would leave her sitting in a chair restrained by only a pair of handcuffs — surely they knew it would take more than  _ that _ to stop the Commander Shepard--then realized the likely reason for their confidence. She looked down at her legs, and noted that both limbs cut off above the knee. They’d removed her prosthetics and stowed them away somewhere. Well, that would make this a bit more difficult.

First things first — she’d start with the handcuffs.

The cell Shepard had been placed in was completely empty, so it looked like jerryrigging some clever makeshift key was out of the question. Shepard began working her wrist back and forth in the restraints, testing the size and strength of them. It was a tight fit, but she might be able to get out of them if she dislocated her thumb. Of course, she didn’t have a lot of practice doing this, and might just end up breaking the thumb instead. While contemplating which thumb was least vital to holding a gun, an unfamiliar feeling welled up within her chest, nearly overwhelming her. It was panic.

Shepard had been in stressful situations. That was the understatement of the cycle, as Javik might say. She’d been in galaxy-defining, all-life-threatening situations before, but somehow she hadn’t felt this kind of panic. She knew the difference. It was one thing to have the entire galaxy depending on you, but somehow it was entirely different to have two helpless little souls who called you family depending on you. 

Personal attachment. This was exactly the kind of thing that made it difficult to operate under high-stress situations, that made it difficult to make the kind of decisions that had to be made. This was exactly what she’d been avoiding during the war. 

Shepard closed her eyes and took several deep breaths — in through the nose, out through the mouth — and forced herself to calm down. She could do this.  _ She could do this _ .

Most marines were trained to aim and fire with the right hand, and Shepard was right-handed anyway. Left thumb it was.

Shepard closed her eyes and held her breath, maneuvering her hands behind her until she could grab her left thumb with her right and and yank inwards towards her palm. A harsh gasp escaped her lips and she heard a sharp cracking sound. Yep, definitely broken. Trying her best to ignore the pain, she wriggled her left wrist around in the cuff, making millimeters of progress at a time. After about a fifteen minutes struggle, she was free.

The door to her cell was locked, the red light blaring down at her, and her omni-tool was gone, but if she could just  _ reach _ the door, she might be able to find a bypass or something. She tried to lower herself down from the chair, but the sharp pain in her thumb as she grasped the seat of the chair made her gasp and lose her grip. She fell to the floor in an undignified heap. In a distant corner of her mind it occurred to Shepard that this was a little humiliating, but the thought passed like dust on the wind. Her dignity didn’t matter — what mattered was Cassia and Jun.

She’d fallen on her stomach, so she started to army crawl towards the door, using her elbows to move herself across the slick floor and dragging her near-useless legs behind her. As she crawled, she looked around for some kind of access panel or control switch, anything she might be able to use to unlock the door, but found nothing.  _ First, just make it to the door _ , she told herself as she crawled.  _ Figure out the rest later _ .

She was only a foot from the door when she heard steps coming down the hall outside, quiet, but audible. She froze, wondering if she should try to get back to her seat, try not to let on that she’d escaped her handcuffs. She didn’t have time to decide, as the next moment the door turned green, then hissed open.

“Shepard!”

Shepard jerked her head up towards the intruder, her eyes struggling to adjust to the bright light from the corridor beyond. Even though the harsh backlighting made it impossible to make out his features, she’d recognize that silhouette anywhere. Even though it had been over two years since she’d heard it, she’d never forget that voice.

“Garrus.”

Garrus reached a hand down to her, grabbing her by the arm and lifting her to sit up. He crouched down next to her and immediately pulled two small electronic devices from his back.

“Quick. Put these on your legs. They’re sort of like… omni-tool prosthetics.”

“What?” Shepard asked, still feeling a little dazed.

“We need to get your kids and get you out of here. These won’t last long, but you should be able to walk on them for an hour or so,” he said, taking one of the devices and strapping it around what was left of her right thigh.

Shepard grabbed the other one and put it on her other leg, pressing a switch that Garrus pointed out. A glowing, freshly-fabricated artificial limb immediately burst forth from the device. She activated the other one, then took Garrus’s hand as he helped her to her new feet.

“Do they work alright? I’m told they’re experimental,” Garrus said.

She took a few cautious steps, testing how the simplified, almost crowbar-like limbs carried her. They weren’t comfortable, and she’d have to be careful, but they’d do for now. She nodded shortly.

“They’re fine. Let’s get the kids.”

Garrus nodded. He handed her a pistol, then turned back towards the door, pulling his assault rifle from his back as he went.

“I would have gotten you your own legs, but I don’t know where those bastards put them, and the kids are our first priority.”

“If they’re your first priority, then why did you get me first?” Shepard asked, a little sharply.

Garrus moved down the hallway and Shepard followed after him, though he turned his head enough to point a piercing blue eye at her as he answered.

“I was worried they wouldn’t come with me, that they’d panic if they didn’t see someone familiar — someone they trusted. Don’t worry, they’re not far, and I placed mines in the hallway to make sure no one could get to them before us.”

“Thank you.”

The Shepard of a few years ago would have felt chagrined by her accusations, but Shepard no longer felt any guilt being protective of her children — especially not given their present circumstances.

“They’re a bit farther down this hallway, but we need to move quietly. I don’t think anyone has realized I’m on the ship yet, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Who kidnapped us anyway? And why are you here?”

Garrus looked back at her again, a browplate raised in an almost comically human gesture.

“I’m a Spectre now, Shepard. Remember? Galaxy-famous war hero hostage situations are exactly the kind of bullshit they send us to take care of. As for your captors, we’re not 100% sure, but they seem like Cerberus holdovers. Extremists who got it into their heads that destroying the Reapers was a bad idea.”

Shepard let out a groan that was almost a growl. Would she  _ never _ be rid of Cerberus? Even after they had been proven wrong a million times over, it seemed like there would always be some crazies out there clinging to their fanatical ways.

“My feelings exactly,” Garrus said dryly. 

“Well I’m just glad the Council sent you. It’s nice to see a friendly face when my very worst nightmares come true.”

“Thankfully I happened to be nearby. The other Spectres are alright, but… I wouldn’t really trust anyone else to do this,” Garrus said.

They walked down the halls of ship in a cautious but hurried fashion, each vigilant for any signs of hostiles. The ship was plain and boring — no distinguishing features and a straightforward layout with no frills. Shepard had no idea how he knew where, since all the doors looked identical to her, but eventually Garrus turned down a side hallway and towards another locked door.

“Cover me,” he said as he put his rifle away and knelt down to bypass the door.

Shepard stood, watching the hallways they’d come from with eagle eyes as Garrus worked, the tension building in her chest. She needed to see her kids. She needed to see with her own two eyes that they were unharmed. 

The door clicked open, and Garrus took her place, covering her back and letting her walk into the room first. Shepard put her gun down, willing to risk being surprised by a hostile over ever pointing a weapon at her children. The room was dark and small, and Cassia and Jun were sitting on chairs in the middle, facing away from each other and tied up around their chests and legs. They looked up at her at the same time, eyes blinking blearily in the light.

“Mom?” Jun said, his voice barely a whisper.

“I’m here, sweetie,” she said, trying not to let her voice waver.

“Can we get out of here?” Cassia said, “I’m scared.”

“Of course,” Shepard said, rushing over to their chairs.

She dropped to her artificial knees and immediately started untying, working first on Cassia’s chair with the understanding that she could help untie her brother when she was free. Garrus dropped down next to Jun and activated a small omni-knife, slicing easily through first the restraints around his chest, then those at his legs.

Garrus spoke as he worked, his voice calm and soothing.

"My name is Garrus Vakarian. I'm a friend of your mom's. We're going to get you out of here, ok?"

He finished freeing Jun before Shepard could finish untying the cords around Cassia's legs, so she moved aside to let him through.

"We know who you are," Cassia said.

"Oh yeah? Your mom talks about me constantly, I assume," he said in his customary drawl, a clear attempt at setting the children at ease.

"You're famous. Any turian would know who you are."

Garrus let out an awkward chuckle at that, pulling the cut cords from Cassia's legs and taking a moment to untangle one that had wound itself around her spur.

“Mom, what’s happening? Cass and I woke up and we were in this room all tied up,” Jun asked as he got shakily to his feet.

“Some bad people wanted to keep us from moving to the Citadel, but Garrus is here to help and we’re going to get there safely,” Shepard said, pulling Jun to her for a tight hug. 

Cassia hovered over to the side for a few seconds before Shepard pulled her in to join them, and she allowed herself a short moment with her kids, holding them tight and thanking her stars they were uninjured.

“Shepard, we’ve got to get moving,” Garrus said.

“Yep,” Shepard said, releasing Cassia and Jun and stepping towards the door. “Cass, Jun, follow after Garrus. I’ll hold up the rear.”

They moved as a unit out into the hallway, Garrus checking behind every corner before moving forward. It was hard to judge from the inside, but the narrow hallways and tight layout suggested they were on a relatively small ship. Shouldn’t they be close to an exit?

“Ok, I got onto the ship via an emergency repair exit, but we’ll be going out the airlock, which is just through the common area ahead. My ship is docking now, so whether the Cerberus knew I was here before or not, they’ll know now. Be ready to face some resistance ahead,” Garrus said.

Cassia and Jun nodded nervously, glancing back at Shepard for some assurance. She tipped her head forward in their direction, forcing a tight smile.

“We’ll be alright. Just stay close, try to stay low to the ground, and do exactly what Garrus or I tell you, alright?”

“Ok mom,” Jun said shakily.

“Ok,” Cassia echoed.

Garrus moved towards a wide doorway likely leading to the aforementioned common area, the light on the door glowing an ominous green.

“Hide behind the walls — I’ll take point,” Garrus said.

Shepard herded her kids to the side with a wide arm, backing them up against the wall to the right of the entrance. With a nod in Shepard’s direction, Garrus tapped the door open, immediately raising his rifle to scan the room beyond. After a few tense seconds of scouting, Garrus looked back to Shepard and jerked his head inwards. Shepard moved Cassia and Jun into the common area, staying close behind them.

They moved into a large, open area furnished with tables and couches. Shepard couldn’t see anyone else in the space, but as soon as she stepped through the door, it shut behind her and the light flicked to red.

“Get down!” Garrus shouted, dashing to a long couch that happened to sit right in front of the door.

Shepard grabbed both children and practically threw them towards the couch, joining them seconds later as Garrus opened fire on their captors who had finally decided to show their faces.

“Cass, Jun — duck your heads down and cover your ears.  _ Don’t move  _ until I say so,” she ordered, pushing both of them downwards to emphasize her point.

“I see four on the right, three on the left,” Garrus said, “but more are likely to come. I get the sense they knew we were here, and decided to catch us at the bottleneck at the airlock.”

“Garrus, I don’t want my kids in a firefight. Any way you can bring in some backup?”

“I’ll call it in. Cover me a minute,” he said.

Shepard looked up from behind the couch, popping off a few shots at a white-and-yellow dressed man who was getting a little too close for comfort.

“James. We need some backup ASAP. We’re in the room just past the airlock — bring a whole team,” Garrus said into his communicator.

Before Shepard could hear a response she started shooting again at her ever-advancing captors. If it had been just her and Garrus, they might have been able to get out of this. But Shepard couldn’t afford to run from cover to cover, shooting and charging people down left and right — not with two kids to keep alive. It also didn’t help that she didn’t have her shields or her favorite rifle.

Understanding her relative vulnerability, Garrus took the brunt of the firefight, peeking out from behind cover a much higher percentage of the time than she. The firefight was relatively short — probably five minutes or so — but it felt like an eternity knowing the Jun and Cassia were at her side, frightened and confused.

Reinforcements arrived in the form of a beefy marine — James Vega, Shepard realized — several turians, and an asari commando. They surged forward from the airlock door and into the middle of the room, pushing the Cerberus forces back and leaving space for Shepard, Garrus, and the kids’ exit. On Garrus’s signal, they headed for the door, staying low with the adults putting the children between them and the line of fire. 

They made it to the airlock, and Garrus waved them through.

“I’ll stay with the team to clean up. You head aboard — it should be familiar to you.”

Shepard nodded, then ushered her children aboard. She was surprised for a moment when she recognized  _ The Normandy _ , though she shouldn’t have been. She herself had recommended the ship go to Garrus.  _ The ship was originally a turian-human collaboration. The first commander was a human, it stands to reason the second should be turian, _ she’d argued to the Council. It had been easier to give the ship up than she’d thought it would be. She’d been weak, recovering from her injuries — returning to active duty felt like a very remote possibility. And she’d been  _ so tired _ , and so ready to move on to something resembling a life. Now, though, urging her kids through the airlock, it suddenly hit Shepard how much she’d missed this ship. Her home.

“Commander Shepard, Cassia and Jun, welcome aboard!” a friendly voice greeted them as they passed into the ship proper.

A cheery-looking turian woman in what looked like the first un-armored turian uniform Shepard had ever seen waved them aboard. It was hard to describe what exactly about the woman’s demeanor made her seem cheery, but Shepard’s familiarity with first Garrus and then Cassia had taught her a decent amount about turian body language.

“Who are you?” Jun asked.

“I’m Alba Cintas, second-in-command aboard  _ The Normandy _ . We’ll be escorting you the rest of the way to the Citadel. Let me show you to your room.”

“Thank you,” Shepard said.

She kept Cassia and Jun close to her, her hands on either of their shoulders as they followed Alba to the elevator. She expected Alba to go down to the crew deck, but instead she selected the captain’s cabin.

“We’re not staying in the crew’s quarters?” 

Alba shook her head.

“Spectre Vakarian insisted. He said the children would be more comfortable there.”

Shepard thought first of the tiny military bunks downstairs, then of her old large bed and fishtank in the captain’s quarters. She looked at Jun, with his wide, frightened eyes, then at Cassia, whose blank stare and persistent silence worried her even more than Jun’s terror. She’d take the big bed.

The elevator dinged, and Alba walked the family into the cabin. A wave of nostalgia washed over Shepard, the memories of the many, many nights she’d spent here almost overwhelming her. Garrus had been living here for awhile now, but she and Garrus were similar in their Spartan tastes. He hadn’t changed much since she’d left.

“Mom, is all of our stuff gone? What’s going to happen to your friend Garrus? What are we going to do now?” Jun asked.

Shepard sighed, finally letting herself believe they were safe. Her legs started shake, and she almost fell to the floor, but she managed to rally enough to herd the children over to the large bed.

“I’m sure we’ll get our stuff back, and I’m sure Garrus will be fine. For now, let’s just rest. We’ll be at the Citadel soon.”

One of the few things Garrus  _ had  _ changed was the bed. He’d swapped out her human bed for a turian bed — similar enough in dimension but with a dip near where his crest would lie. It vaguely occurred to Shepard that it might be nice for Cassia for the humans to have to make accomodations for once. She grabbed a couple of spare pillows to fill in the space for her and Jun, then lay down in the middle of the bed in between the two of them, pulling them close to her.

“I’m so sorry you two went through this,” she whispered into Cassia’s fringe. “I’m just so sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Cassia said, her voice so soft Shepard could barely hear it, “it’s not any worse than the war.”

Shepard screwed her eyes shut in pain. She’d fought so hard to free Cassia, Jun, and every other innocent like them from experiencing something like the war ever again. And simply being associated with Shepard had put them in danger.

“But you came for us, Mom,” Jun said, still a bit shaky but with growing confidence. “You came for us.”

“I can’t always… I can’t always promise your safety. You two probably know better than almost anyone that you can’t guarantee anything in this life. But I can promise you… I  _ swear  _ to you, that I will always come for you,” she said.

Cassia nuzzled her head further into Shepard’s side, her three talons digging into the material of Shepard’s shirt. Jun tightened his grip on Shepard’s waist, and whimpered a little as Shepard returned his embrace with a tight squeeze. She held them, whispering soft, soothing words. Eventually they fell asleep, their deep, even breaths assuring her of their rest. Shepard was also exhausted — completely drained both physically and emotionally — but she would not sleep. If she slept, when she woke who knew where her children might be. She had to stay awake — had to watch over them. No matter what.


	2. Chapter 2

Shepard lay awake in bed between Cassia and Jun for several hours. It wasn’t an unpleasant sort of insomnia. At least awake she could feel the warmth of their small bodies against her and know for certain that they were unharmed. If she fell asleep, who knew what dreams would befall her, who knew what horrors she might awake to. This was probably the best she could hope for.

Shepard’s quiet vigil was broken some time later by a soft rapping at the door. Whoever it was had known that though there was a ringer to ask for entrance, it was loud and would likely wake the children. It was probably Garrus.

Shepard carefully extricated herself from her sleeping children, thankful that both were heavy sleepers. She activated her omni-tool legs and carefully maneuvered herself over to the door, unlocking it first then tapping it open. Just as she had suspected, Garrus was on the other side.

“Shepard,” he said, voice barely above a whisper, “just wanted to see how you were doing. Oh, and bring you your… legs.”

He pointed to a crate at his feet which contained both of Shepard’s prosthetics as well as Cassia’s.

“Thanks,” Shepard said, reaching down for the crate. “We’re alright, all things considered. Want to come in?”

“I don’t want to wake them…”

“Don’t worry. They sleep like the dead,” Shepard said, moving to the side and gesturing for him to enter.

Garrus nodded his head, then stepped into the cabin. Shepard grabbed the crate and led him to the small desk that still had a display case of model ships above it, pulling out the same human-shaped rolling chair that had graced the cabin during her tenure, and letting Garrus pull out his own turian-shaped chair.

“I can’t believe you kept all my models. And my chair!” Shepard said, pulling off the omni-prosthetics and starting to reattach her much more comfortable and familiar prosthetics.

Garrus chuckled a little, the sound rumbling deep in his register, and one hand scratched under his fringe in embarrassment.

“Well, even after a few years, this still kinda feels like your space. I couldn’t bring myself to change it too much.”

“ _ The Normandy _ ’s yours now, Garrus. You deserve it. You earned it.”

“Obviously at least  _ some  _ people thought so,” Garrus said.

Shepard finished getting her legs back on and sat up, taking a moment to just look Garrus over. He had largely ignored her whole reassembly process, which Shepard appreciated, and mostly just looked mildly embarrassed by her praise. Shepard smiled at his familiar awkward self-deprecation, folding her arms across her stomach and leaning back into the chair. Garrus had always loved boasting of outlandish, exaggerated exploits, but when it came to sincere, straightforward praise, he balked. 

“So how did the rest of the mission go? Did you find out what they were about?” she asked.

Garrus gave a noncommittal shrug.

“They’re definitely terrorists  à la  Cerberus. It looks like they were an independent cell holding out for all these years, but we can’t be certain without more investigation. We seized all their files, and all the operatives who surrendered will be interrogated. I…” 

Garrus trailed off, shifting uncomfortably in his seat for a moment before leaning forward and looking up at Shepard with those piercing eyes of his.

“I have to apologize to you, Shepard. I was one of the people tasked with ensuring that you made it to the Citadel safely, and something like this never should have happened. I’m so sorry.”

A stinging weight welled in Shepard’s eyes at the sheer earnestness of Garrus’s apology. One of the things she’d always loved most about Garrus was his sincerity, and he just  _ had  _ to hit her with it full force just as soon as he saw her again, didn’t he?

“You can never be prepared for everything. I don’t blame you. I can only thank you for getting us out of trouble as quickly as you did.”

“Still I… I can’t help but feel responsible.”

“The only thing you should feel responsible for, Garrus, is our rescue. Ok? If anything, I’m the one who’s ultimately responsible for their safety. Not you,” Shepard said forcefully.

Her commander voice had come out, which silenced him fairly quickly. It surprised Shepard that she’d reverted to it so easily, but then again it had always been a useful tool for keeping Garrus at a distance. The conversation fell into an awkward lapse, but Garrus soon rallied and managed to find his bearings again.

“Well, despite the awful circumstances, I am glad I finally got to meet your kids. They seem great,” he said.

Shepard smiled.

“They are. I’m glad you got to meet them too.”

“Will they be alright? I mean.. Getting kidnapped is the kind of thing that can stay with a person.”

Shepard grimaced at the thought that had occurred to her as well.

“...Yeah. It will probably be hard for a while, to feel safe again. I know it was hard for me after Mindoir. But they’re tough. We’ll find a way to get through it.”

Garrus let out an angry huff, shaking his head in frustration.

“You know, it’s things like this that make me regret taking this job. Being a Spectre.”

“Hostage situations?” Shepard asked.

Garrus shook his head again.

“No, no. It’s just... During the war so many awful things happened to so many innocent people. And then at the end, I just wanted… I just hoped that that wouldn’t happen any more. And if I took some administrative job in the Hierarchy like my dad wanted, or even a high-up C-SEC position, I’d probably be able to pretend that those things really  _ don’t _ happen any more. But when you’re a Spectre… Sometimes it feels like every damn tragedy in the galaxy somehow ends up on your list of situations to handle.”

“I know what you mean. So… why did you take the position, then? God knows you earned a cushy spot in the Hierarchy, if you wanted it.”

Garrus laughed, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms across his keel.

“Shepard, there is no such thing as a cushy spot in the Hierarchy — at least not in the higher levels. I almost… In a way, accepting the Spectre position was my way of avoiding the Hierarchy. As a Spectre I have to see some of the scum of the galaxy up close and personal, but at least I’m not likely to have to make any decisions that will affect billions of lives. I had enough of that during the war.”

“So… being a Spectre was the lesser of two evils.”

Garrus shook his head.

“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. For the most part, I enjoy being a Spectre. Take today — it feels good to rescue innocent children from crazed fanatics trying to profit off of fear and lunacy. It just gets hard to see so many people put in these awful situations in the first place.”

“I get that.”

Shepard sighed and leaned back in her chair. She wondered idly for a moment if Garrus still had human-safe liquor stocked, but knew that drinking wouldn’t be a good idea. Cassia or Jun could wake up any moment, after all. She wanted to model positive coping mechanisms for them.

“You make me feel guilty sometimes,” she said instead, leaning her head back and staring at the ceiling.

“Hmm?”

“Well… You hopped right back into action, as soon as you could. While I just hung out on Earth for three years, playing house.”

“I’d hardly call raising two children ‘playing house,’ Shepard.”

“I know. But I could be doing more. I know a lot of people really  _ want _ me to do more.”

Shepard lifted her head up and looked back at Garrus, a wry smile twisting her mouth.

“I saw the toll the war took on you, Shepard. It was hard on everyone, of course, but the way it all seemed to rest on your shoulders… I don’t think a single person in the galaxy could begrudge you some time to recover.”

“But there were people who lost so much more than I did, people who don’t have the luxury of just taking a break for three years.”

“You don’t need to downplay how hard it was on you, Shepard. I saw it. The whole crew saw it. From the Omega-4 Relay to the Crucible, you were practically a different person. We used to be close and by the end you hardly talked to me-” Garrus said, volume increasing until he suddenly cut himself off.

He gave his head a quick shake and sat back in his chair, his mandibles pulling close to his face.

“I, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” he stuttered, then let out a massive sigh. “First time I’m seeing you in three years, and I’ve already screwed it up.”

Shepard winced, his words confirming what she had long suspected. Pulling away from her friends had been a conscious choice — had felt like her only option at the time — but she knew she’d hurt them. Garrus probably most of all.

Since the end of the war, Shepard could have reached out to Garrus. She’d responded to all of his messages with delayed, half-hearted correspondence until he’d gotten the picture. It had hurt, but she’d felt like it was necessary. With her other friends she could build that rapport back up, but with him… It felt too risky. It felt like making herself a glutton for punishment.

But now… It was three whole years later. Looking across the study space at him, at his familiar scars, blue face paint, and beat-up armor — it felt too much like home. Looking at him now, she knew she didn’t want to give him up again. And it had been long enough now. She could accept what she had without always yearning for what she didn’t.

“You haven’t screwed anything up,” Shepard said eventually. “The war did change me, and that’s nobody’s fault. But I’ve really missed our friendship. I know I’m a big part of why we haven’t talked in a while, but I’d like that to change. Starting today.”

“I’d… like that too,” Garrus said.

Garrus’s blue eyes flicked up towards Shepard’s, and she chanced a small smile in his direction. His head tilted to the side in a gesture that had always translated to Shepard as a smirk, and she barely stifled a laugh.

“Just like old times?” she said.

“Just like old times.”

“Mom?”

A muffled voice called out from the bed, followed by the rustling of a restless sleeper. Shepard got to her feet, looking back over her shoulder at where her two children still slept.

“Duty calls?” Garrus said.

“Yep.”

“I’ll leave you to it. We should be at the Citadel in just a few hours. I can wake you as soon as we get there, or let you sleep in. Your call.”

“Let’s see how long I can keep these kids in bed. Both trauma and moving are easier to deal with well-rested.”

“You got it,” Garrus said, getting to his feet and heading for the door.

Shepard watched as the door shut with him still facing into the room. Turian faces weren’t as flexible and expressive as human faces, but she imagined he seemed lighter. She walked back to the bed and eased herself between Cassia and Jun, snuggling Jun closer to her as it had been his sleepy voice that’d called out to her. This time, she fell asleep.

* * *

“...And your new apartment is right here, in the nicest part of Kithoi Ward,” Garrus said.

Cassia crossed her arms in front of her chest and rolled her eyes, the gesture hard to spot with her smaller, recessed eyes, but becoming increasingly familiar to Shepard.

“I’m sure you’d say that about wherever we moved to. Even the middle of nowhere,” she mumbled.

“Cass…” Shepard said, a slight warning to her voice.

Though Shepard didn’t love Cassia’s sassy moods, at least she was saying  _ something _ . When they'd landed at the Citadel a few hours earlier, Cassia had been silent and barely-responsive, so Shepard didn’t want to come down too hard on her for any interaction, no matter how obnoxious.

"I think it looks nice. See, there's a big park right there! And I saw a hanar earlier — what if we have hanar neighbors?" Jun said.

"Thanks for coming with us, Garrus. You didn't have to."

"I wouldn't have been able to rest easy until I saw you properly settled, Shepard," Garrus said.

He showed them to the elevator to their place, holding the doors open until even rubber-necked Jun tore himself away from the views.

"You guys are on the top floor. Better security available there. You also have a dedicated elevator, so you can lock the whole shaft down if you want to."

"Can we, Jane?" Cassia said, eyeing Shepard a little anxiously. "I'd feel better if I knew people couldn't even get up the elevator."

"Sure, honey."

The elevator dinged and they all piled out into the short walkway before the front door. Shepard pulled up the access codes on her omni-tool and the door opened, allowing Jun to dash inside followed by a slightly more sedate Cassia.

"Wow! Look at the view! You can see  _ everything _ ," Jun said, his face pressed up against the glass of the living room window.

Shepard and Garrus stayed in the living room while Cassia and Jun inspected their new living quarters, mostly just watching the kids' reactions rather than looking for themselves.

Cassia wandered back into the living room from the third bedroom that Shepard had already picked out as Cassia's with a thoughtful look on her face.

"It's not as big as our place on Earth, but it's really nice."

"Honestly, I always thought that house on Earth was a little too big for us. One bedroom each and two bathrooms is  _ more _ than enough space for three people," Shepard said.

"Seriously. Before the war my parents and I shared a one-bedroom apartment. We even had to share our bathroom with the neighbor!" Jun said.

Cassia's nose plates wrinkled together.

"That's gross."

"We were  _ poor _ , Cass. That's what poor people have to do sometimes."

"Alright, alright. Cassia, I was thinking you could take that room, then Jun would take the other one, and the last one's mine," Shepard said, pointing first to a room right off the living room, then to the two rooms at the end of the hall.

"Works for me," Cassia said with a shrug, turning around and walking back into her room.

"Sure! I can see the docks from mine."

Shepard put her hands on her waist and looked around at the stacks of boxes of things to unpack, sighing deeply at the prospect of all the work they had before them. Most of the larger furniture she’d purchased from the Citadel and had already been delivered, but all of their clothes, nicknacks, and the surprising amount of  _ stuff _ they’d accumulated since the war still needed to be put away.

"Well I should probably get going,” Garrus said, already backing towards the door. “The level of both turian-human cooperation and sibling cooperation going on here is getting eerie.”

Shepard nodded and smiled back at Garrus, knowing he’d already taken more time out of his day than he could probably afford just to see them settled.

“Can’t you stay?”

Shepard looked up in surprise to see Cassia standing in her doorway, her eyebrow plates raised in a clearly hopeful expression. Shepard looked across at Garrus, and saw that he was just as surprised as Shepard by the request.

“Uh, well…”

“We’re having dinner soon, and we always have turian food,” Cassia said.

Shepard fought to keep the surprise off her face as she looked back at her daughter. Cassia had always been a little standoffish, especially with adults and people she didn’t know, so this development was unexpected.

“Cass, Garrus probably has to get back-” Shepard said.

“-No, no. I was just going to get dinner anyway. I can stay if you don’t mind, Shepard,” Garrus said, still hovering by the door.

“Of course you can stay. I already ordered, but I can call and ask them to add a couple of things. It shouldn’t be any trouble.”

Surprised though she was, Shepard was glad that Cassia seemed to like Garrus. Shepard hardly knew anyone she’d consider a better mentor, and Cassia meeting an adult figure that she respected — that could be good for her. Especially considering that Shepard knew Cassia didn’t always feel comfortable coming to her.

“Jane ordered the turian food from this place called Cipritine Cuisine. She told me it was your favorite place — she’s been talking it up ever since we decided to move,” Cassia said.

“I  _ do _ love Cipritine Cuisine,” Garrus said, moving back into the room and taking a seat on the sofa that the furniture store had already delivered. “What did you have her order?”

“Just some roasted  _ truat _ , a plate of mashed  _ efola _ , and a bowl of  _ crakee _ soup.”

“How do you know all my favorites? Don’t you know it’s illegal to spy on a Spectre?”

“Oh come on!  _ Everyone  _ loves  _ truat _ .”

Shepard pulled up the number of the eatery on her omni-tool.

“OK, I’ll add another order of  _ truat _ then.”

“Thanks, Shepard.”

Cassia crept further into the living room, eventually taking a seat at the far end of the sofa from Garrus. Shepard laughed as she ordered the extra food, sitting down in a comfy chair across from the sofa.

“Is Spectre Vakarian staying?” Jun said, poking his head out the door of his newly-explored room.

“Yep, and make sure to enjoy him while he’s here. I’m sure Spectre business will take him away from the Citadel most of the time.”

“Ok!”

Jun seemed to fly across the room, landing right in the middle of the sofa with a solid thump.

Garrus eyed the two children from his side of the sofa, his arm slung casually around the back of the sofa belying the look of uncertainty in his eyes.

“Come on, Vakarian. You faced down the Reapers. You can handle two harmless kids,” Shepard said with a smirk.

“Ahah. If you say so, Commander. I  _ did  _ say I’d follow you into hell.”

“You did. And there are no take-backs.”

* * *

The Shepard-Fedissian-Wang family spent the next two full days unpacking. What this actually meant was that Shepard spent all day unpacking, just barely managing to keep the kids on task for several hour-long shifts throughout the day. The rest of the time they spent browsing the extranet, sleeping, or just bouncing off the walls while Shepard tried to make order out of the chaos. They got their own rooms sorted, which Shepard counted as a victory considering it was the one thing she didn’t think she could manage herself.

The third day Shepard had set aside for school prep, but her plans were somewhat interrupted when Liara called her first thing in the morning insisting on visiting them as soon as possible. Not eager to get on the Shadow Broker’s bad side, Shepard scrapped her plan to get takeout and instead came up with a nice dinner menu with which to treat her friend. The daytime was still spent purchasing uniforms, datapad books, and whatever other necessities they hadn’t thought to bring with them, but the shopping trip was cut a little short to give Shepard time to get groceries and cook. Shepard wasn’t too worried — Jun and Cass would be thrilled to see Liara, and they were still more or less prepared to face their academic lives.

The console by the door buzzed precisely at their prearranged dinnertime, and Shepard dashed over from the still somewhat-cluttered kitchen to call the elevator. She could have just let Liara up, but Cassia and Jun had both been having trouble sleeping and had balked at the idea of letting visitors come up the elevator on their own. With the kidnapping still so fresh in their minds, Shepard was more than willing to comply with their request.

Two long elevator trips later, and Liara was oohing and ahhing over their new place.

“It’s not as fancy as your old place on the Silversun Strip, but it suits you better, I think,” she said, her silky-soft voice contemplative.

“Thanks. The kids helped me pick it out.”

“Yes! Tell me they’re here, I’ve been dying to meet them in person. Vid calls are simply not the same,” Liara said.

“Is that Aunt Liara?” Jun’s voice called from down the hall.

Cassia appeared in the doorway to her room.

“Hi Aunt Liara,” she said.

“Cassia!” Liara said, rushing over to her and pulling her into a tight embrace. “It’s so good to see you and actually be able to  _ hug _ you!”

“Aunt Liara, I’m here too!” Jun said, bounding down the hall towards them.

“How could I miss you, Jun!” 

Liara pulled Jun in to join her and Cassia in their hug, bending down a little to get better access to them. Shepard couldn’t resist the smile tugging at her lips. A few well-placed words from Liara could bring down governments and armies, but put her in front of a couple of cute kids and she just melted.

“So tell me how the move has gone. I want to hear every detail,” Liara said after they’d all finally sat down for food.

“Well, it was really scary at first-” Jun started.

“Jun!” Cassia hissed.

“What?”

“Don’t talk about that.”

Liara raised an eyebrow at Shepard over her glass.

“Jun, I’ll tell Aunt Liara about that later. Why don’t you tell her about your trip to the Presidium today?”

“Oh yeah! My new school makes everyone wear uniforms, and they’re really fancy, so we had to go all the way to the Presidium to buy them.”

“That must have been fun,” Liara said.

“Yeah, Mom said it was a lot like the old Presidium, but with more construction. And I saw some hanar! And an elcor!”

“I hope you get used to seeing them soon, Jun, because plenty of hanar and elcor live on the Citadel. It’s not polite to stare at every alien you see,” Cassia said.

“I know…” Jun said, a little sheepishly. “I wasn’t  _ staring _ .”

“Have you made any friends yet?” Liara asked Cassia.

“School hasn’t started, so I haven’t really met anyone yet. But we did meet Spectre Vakarian,” Cassia said, brightening a little.

“Garrus? I didn’t know he was on the Citadel,” Liara said, then shot Shepard a glance that added “ _ or talking to you right now _ .”

“The Council sent him to escort us to our new home, because Jane is so famous and all,” Cassia said.

“Well it must have been nice to spend time with another turian. I’d imagine you don’t get to see very many on Earth,” Liara said.

“I haven’t spent time with any turians in  _ ages _ . I’d almost forgotten what subvocals sound like.”

Shepard took a big gulp of her drink, trying to ignore the niggling guilt that occasionally whispered to her that Cassia would have been happier with someone else. In her mind she knew it wasn’t true — when Shepard had adopted her, Cassia had been stranded on Earth, and someone like Shepard was in a much better position to be able to procure dextro-based food for her than practically anyone else on the planet. And she’d moved them to the Citadel in part so Cassia could meet other turians. Maybe they hadn’t moved  _ right  _ away, but both the relays and the Citadel had taken a while to rebuild—were  _ still _ being rebuilt.

“Well Garrus would never admit it, but he’s a  _ great _ turian,” Liara said, interrupting Shepard’s thoughts. She nodded in agreement.

“Why doesn’t he think he’s a good turian?” Jun asked.

Shepard shrugged.

“Something about not following stupid orders, not liking beaurocracy.  _ I  _ always argued that that made him a particularly good turian, but he always denied it,” she said.

“There will be lots of turians at my new school,” Jun said. “And asari and salarians. And some other aliens too but mostly just them.”

They spent the rest of dinner talking about Cassia and Jun’s school—which classes they were taking, how far away from home they were, that sort of thing. After a few games and dextro and levo desserts, Shepard convinced Cassia and Jun to get into bed and stayed up a little later for drinks with Liara.

“So,” Liara said after she’d settled into the sofa with her glass of elasa, “What’s this about a dangerous move? And what does it have to do with Garrus?”

Shepard sank into the sofa next to Liara and covered her eyes with her hands, letting out a little groan at the prospect of reliving their nightmare trip.

“Just more of the same old villains. Some Cerberus holdovers kidnapped me and the kids, and Garrus was the Spectre the Council put on the case.”

Liara gasped, setting her drink on the coffee table. The gasp was pretty convincing—Shepard almost believed it.

“Don’t act like you hadn’t heard  _ anything  _ about it, Miss Shadow Broker.”

“I may have heard a few rumblings, but the details eluded me. And Garrus wouldn’t tell me anything except that you and the kids were safe.”

Shepard launched into a detailed recounting of their ordeal, and Liara played the perfect audience member. She gasped, murmured sympathetic sounds, and laughed when appropriate (which was infrequently). It felt good to have an adult to talk to about it. With the kids Shepard had to be so careful, always wanted to be a source of strength for them.

“Wow… That sounds like quite the ordeal,” Liara said when the tale finally reached its conclusion. “How are the kids doing?”

“Pretty well, all things considered. I’ve been taking some extra security measures, I’ve talked to them about it, I’ve arranged for them to meet with a therapist. They seem to be doing alright and I know they’re tough, but I’m going to make sure they have whatever they need.”

“I’ll come visit often, too, if you think it will help.”

“Sure, I’m sure they’d love to see you.  _ I’d  _ love to see you, too. I was… something of a hermit on Earth, and I don’t think that was the best for the kids. Or for me, either, if I’m being honest.”

“Is that why you’re talking to Garrus again?” Liara asked, looking first down at her glass, then over the rim at Shepard.

Shepard let out a halfhearted laugh and leaned back on the couch, running a hand through her shoulder-length red hair.

“Uh, sure.”

“Shepard. You haven’t talked to him in three years-”

“-two-and-a-half-”

“-in  _ a long time _ .”

Shepard took another long pull from her drink.

“Well, he’d just rescued me from Cerberus, what was I supposed to do? Give him the cold shoulder?” she said.

“So you  _ don’t _ want to talk to him any more? You’d rather it had been some other Spectre?”

“No! No. I’m glad we can be friends again.”

Liara set her drink down and leaned back into the sofa, narrowing her eyes and examining Shepard like she was an ancient Prothean artifact from one of her digs.

“Can you please stop looking at me like you’re about to dissect me?”

“Please, Shepard. I did a lot more excavating than dissecting. I wasn’t like Mordin.”

“Dissecting, excavating—whatever it is you’re looking for, care to share your results?” Shepard asked.

Liara fell silent for a long moment, bringing her hand to her lips as she often did when faced with a serious puzzle. Shepard resisted the urge to squirm,

“It was hard on him, not hearing from you. Are you sure you’ve gotten over… whatever it was that led you to cut him off?” she said eventually.

Shepard swallowed thickly, looking back at her drink to give her a break from Liara’s piercing gaze. That was the question, wasn’t it?

“Yes. I won’t pretend I don’t worry sometimes that it will be too much for me, but… It will be okay,” she said. Her grip on her glass tightened, and she forced more determination into her voice. “It has to be.”

“Well, if I know anyone who can accomplish something through sheer force of will, it’s you,” Liara said.

Liara finished her drink and set it down, getting to her feet with her trademark asari grace.

“Well, I should really get going. Ah, and you should know. Tali will tell you she’s just visiting you next month, but she’s actually planning on moving to the Citadel. It’s all very hush-hush, but the Council is considering offering the quarians a spot on the Council, and Tali’s on their short list for first quarian councilor.”

“Well, I’ll be sure to act surprised when she tells me,” Shepard said with a smile, walking Liara over to the door.

Liara turned back to Shepard once she reached the door, pulling her into a tight hug.

“It’s been too long, friend. I am so glad to see you again.”

That prickling feeling returned to Shepard’s eyes—that’s two times she’d felt it in less than a week. She tightened her arms around Liara and squeezed tight. “You’re right, Liara. It’s been  _ too long _ .”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a few quick edits to the to the last few chapters. I played through the end of ME3 recently and it changed a bit how I envisioned Earth and the Citadel after the war. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy!

Shepard was dying. She didn’t feel any pain, but she knew with an unshakable certainty that her soul would soon be fleeing her body. Her head rolled to the right to find Admiral Anderson sitting, motionless, beside her. He was dead. She could see it in his eyes, staring straight forward with dilated pupils. She remembered what he’d said to her before that, that he was proud of her. It was comforting, to a certain extent, but now all she was left with was his empty corpse.

Shepard let her head loll in a lazy circle, looking out the large windows above her. Outside, the war was being fought in earnest. Reaper forces took on asari, turian, quarian, and human ships alike. Explosions representing the deaths of thousands of allies looked almost beautiful against the galactic backdrop. Out there, somewhere, she knew every person she loved and cared about was waiting for her. Waiting for her to get up and finish the fight.

Shepard closed her eyes and tried to keep breathing. She knew she could save them, at least what was left of them. She’d even done it before. She knew they would thank her, would call her a hero, would call her their savior. But she had never felt so alone.

The windows above opened up, and she floated, weightless, out of them into the vacuum of space. Now she really was dying, just like over Akuze. Her breath slowly seeped from her, her life force following soon after. Alone.

* * *

“Jane? Jane?”

Cassia’s layered voice finally reached Shepard through her semi-conscious haze. She sat up in bed, eyes still closed, and covered her face with one hand.

“Yes? What is it Cass?”

She heard Cassia’s taloned feet shift from side to side, but Cassia didn’t respond. Shepard forced her eyes opened, and smiled reassuringly at Cassia.

“Today is the deadline to register for school, right?” Cassia said eventually.

“Yeah. But don’t worry about it, I’ve already registered for you. You should be good to go when school starts next week.”

Cassia nodded, her hands held behind her back. She looked down for a moment, whatever weight that had pressed on her before obviously still present. She looked back up, and cleared her throat.

“Um, Jane? Can I change my registration? Can I register as Cassia Fedissian in school?”

It took Shepard a moment to register the request, her human eyes blinking dumbly back at Cassia. Once the words translated to meaning, she had to fight her natural instinct to recoil.

“Why would you want to do that, sweetie?”

“Well… Everyone knows who you are. And everyone knows Shepard isn’t a turian name. If I show up at school as Cassia Shepard, they’ll want to know why I have a human name, then they’ll want to know who adopted me, then they’ll know it’s you and… I just want to fit in. I’ve never gone to school with other turians before.”

Shepard considered for a moment saying that Cassia’s legal name had to be used by the school for administrative purposes, but that wasn’t quite true. There were all kinds of technical complexities surrounding Cassia’s name that meant that she could more or less go by whatever name she wanted. Whatever name she used would likely lead to additional screening and questioning, because on Earth she was Cassia Fedissian Shepard, but according to the Hierarchy she was still Cassia Fedissian. Across the birth certificate, legal guardianship papers, adoption papers, school registration, Hierarchy records, and medical records, Cassia had probably had five or six different legal names, all different iterations on the same theme. Using “Cassia Fedissian” wouldn’t necessarily be any harder than using any of the other ones.

“...Jane?”

Shepard looked up, realizing that her inner monologue was taking too long. She looked at Cassia, her beautiful grey eyes so open and vulnerable, and she felt a pang in her chest.

“Sure, Cass. I can update your registration today. We can do it together, if you want.”

“Ok, let’s go to the school later. Thank you.”

Cassia hesitated a moment, then Shepard held her arms open to her, inviting her in. She dashed over to Shepard’s bed and hugged her tightly and quickly.

“Thanks,” she said again, eyes shut tight.

“Anything for you,” Shepard said into her crest before giving her a quick kiss.

* * *

Jun, Shepard, and Cassia headed for Cassia’s school’s headquarters just after lunch. While Cassia would be attending a branch of the school just a five-minute walk from their apartment, Citadel Academy had multiple locations, and their headquarters were located close to the old docks. They took a cab to the docks, hopping off at the part of the docks that had housed thousands of refugees during the war.    


For whatever reason, this part of the Citadel had remained almost untouched by the Crucible’s synthetic-destroying blast, so when volunteers had first arrived at the Citadel to look for survivors, they’d found the remembrance wall virtually unchanged. Three years later, and this part of the docks had become something of a memorial, to all those who had been lost during the war.

Without really thinking about, as soon as Shepard stepped down from the cab, she found her feet wandering towards the old remembrance wall, Cassia and Jun in tow. She gravitated towards the remembrance wall, which had been encased in glass and virtually frozen in time just as it had been during the war. Survivors had used this space to memorialize the fallen in other ways as well—sculptures, etchings of names, flowers, and so on—but Shepard hardly noticed any of that.

“Mom, what’s this?” Jun asked, his question bringing Shepard back to the present.

“During the war, this is where people would post pictures of their loved ones, either to locate them if they were missing, or just as a way to remember them if they were gone,” Shepard said.

“Oh…” Jun said quietly. “They had something like that Edinburgh, too.”

Cassia nodded in agreement.

“I remember. Not in London, though. There wasn’t really anywhere safe enough.”

Cassia and Jun had both been in London when the reapers attacked, but good fortune and a swift evac had brought them both, eventually, to Edinburgh. By the time they’d reach there, the Alliance had figured out that large groups of humans invited attack. Survivors were dispersed throughout the Scottish countryside, with a loose base of operations set in Edinburgh.

“Mom, is there anyone you know up here?” Jun asked.

Shepard shook her head.

“Not really. Some friends of a friends,” she said, walking up to the wall and placing her hand over the glass where the vid of Cortez’s husband still ran. “But they  _ are _ remembered. All of them.”

Shepard’s focus on the wall faded away, and her awareness of her surroundings dimmed. The dark thoughts that often plagued her sleep started to invade her waking mind, telling her that all her friends were gone, that it was a mistake that she had survived, that all of her attempts at forming new relationships would fail because  _ she wasn’t supposed to be here _ . She screwed her eyes shut, willing the thoughts away, but they persisted.

A three-fingered hand took hers and pulled her away.

“Let’s get going. ...I think we’ve been here long enough,” Shepard heard Cassia say, without really seeing her.

“Mom, are you alright?” Jun asked.

Shepard thought vaguely that she should respond, that she was probably worrying the kids, but she said nothing. Jun took her other hand, and together Cassia and Jun led her through the docks.

They walked for some time before Shepard came fully to herself. She looked around her, and saw that they were already out of the docks and had reached the main thoroughfare of the ward. She shook her head, then looked down first at Cassia and then at Jun, their concern written clearly on their young faces. She bit her lip, and looked down to avoid the guilt those faces roused.

“I’m sorry to have worried you. It’s passed, now. I’m fine,” she said.

They each nodded, already familiar with the kinds of episodes that struck Shepard at times. They each had their own version—Cassia tended to run and hide somewhere dark and quiet, while Jun more often experienced flashbacks. And of course, every once in a while something new and frightening would decide to rear its ugly head. Shepard grew frustrated at the thought. They understood, but that didn’t make this ok. She was the adult. She was trying to be their  _ mother _ . How could she take care of them if she couldn’t even fix herself?

Jun’s small fingers tightened around her hand with comforting assurance.

“It’s alright. Let’s go to Cass’s school, like we planned,” he said.

Shepard nodded her head sharply, almost coming to attention. She might have messed up, but going into a tailspin about it now wouldn’t make anything better. She pulled herself tall, and looked around her, recalling the directions the school superintendent had given her in the message.

“Ok, let’s get going. The school headquarters should be over that way,” she said, pointing and heading off down the hallway to the right.

Cassia and Jun followed after her. When they passed back through the docks after talking with the superintendent, Shepard walked by the remembrance hall without further incident.

* * *

It was too soon to talk to Garrus again. Shepard told herself this for the sixth time as she looked over paperwork for work after dinner. She wasn’t good at relationships in general, and this rule  _ especially _ applied to Garrus, so she had intended to take this whole… rebuilding friendship thing slowly. Which meant that talking to him again so soon wasn’t a good idea, wasn’t according to plan.

Shepard set down her datapad and leaned back in her chair with an exhausted groan. She was feeling too tired today to be strong. She shook her head, knowing she would probably regret this later, and pulled up the messaging function on her terminal, entering the extranet address Garrus had just given her the day before.

_ S: Hey Garrus, not sure if you’re on to your next mission or not. Got a minute? _

Shepard sent the message before she could think better of it, then immediately got to work distracting herself with her paperwork. The paperwork really was quite important—her new job at the Citadel was primarily to liaise between the Spectres and the Alliance, a position that she hoped would both bring more accountability to the Spectres and foster closer relationships between the Citadel and the Alliance.

Ever since the final assault on Earth, almost all council and non-council races had continued their increased cooperation and collaboration. With so many colonies and homeworlds devastated and the mass relays damaged, they had needed to work together for their survival. Shepard was determined to maintain that sense of unity, determined that if anything good was to come out of this war, it would continue on. And she felt confident that this new job would help work towards that goal. She’d be able to assist the struggling Council regain its power and authority, as well as strengthen the alliance between the Council and humanity. It would be good, to feel like she was helping again.

An alert from her terminal startled Shepard from her work, and she saw that she was getting a vidcall from Garrus. A tickle of nerves caused her to hesitate a moment—she’d thought he would just message her back—but she swept it aside and answered. Garrus’s concerned face appeared suspended over the terminal.

“Shepard? What’s up? Is everything Ok?”

Shepard chuckled.

“Always expecting the worst, aren’t you?” She said. She should have known her message might alarm him.

“It’s kept me alive this far, hasn’t it? So... no emergency, I take it.”

“No,” she said with a shake of her head. “No, I just need some… guidance. On turian customs.”

“Turian customs? Well, I’m not a very good turian, but I can do my best.”

“How important are family names to turians?” she asked.

Garrus’s eyebrow plates furrowed as he thought.

“Hmmm… Well, you know, for turians community is above everything else, even family. But family is a close second. So yeah, we take a lot of pride in our family names. In our legacy, that sort of thing.”

“Ah,” Shepard said. 

She’d figured as much. It didn’t really give her any answers, though. It didn’t heal the wound she’d felt growing in her heart since this morning.

“Shepard, what’s this about? Are you meeting up with the turian Councilor tomorrow or something? Or is it Cassia?” Garrus asked.

Shepard considered for a moment if she wanted to answer truthfully or not. Had she really called to just ask him a question about turian customs? No, what she really wanted was to  _ tell _ someone. Unloading the hurt onto Cassia was not an option, but Shepard was worried if she didn’t unload it  _ somewhere _ , it might seep out of her in other, hurtful ways.

“It’s Cassia,” she said. “She wants to go to school under her old name. Not mine.”

“Oh. Oh…”

Understanding swelled in Garrus’s voice, and Shepard turned her head from the projection, not wanting to see the look of pity in his eyes.

“I get where she’s coming from. I really do. She doesn’t want to feel like she’s betraying her family, or replacing her mom and dad. I understand but…” Shepard said.

“But it hurts. It makes you feel like she’d rather not be a part of your family.”

“Which is ridiculous, because of  _ course  _ she would rather her parents be alive, which would mean she wouldn’t be a part of my family. But I’d hoped that, with time,  _ I  _ could be a part of her life, too. Not replacing, not more or less important than, just… in addition.”

“I don’t know, Shepard. This one’s tough. I’m not sure if I can give you any answers.”

Shepard let out a small snort of a laugh.

“You never did like grey, did you?”

Garrus chuckled.

“No. No, I didn’t.”

Shepard fell silent for a long moment, her eyes unfocusing as she stared off into space. She swallowed, then pursed her lips.

“There’s no decision to make, anyway. I already told her she could use her old name.”

“Fedissian, right?” Garrus said.

Shepard looked back at him and nodded.

“Yeah. It’s a nice name, and I understand why she wants to use it. I’m not going to insist that she go by Shepard—I’m not that petty. She also said it was about keeping a low profile at school, and I get that it could be hard to be in middle school as the adopted child of someone… famous.”

Garrus bobbed his head understandingly.

“Yeah,” his voice crackled through the terminal, “just being at C-SEC with people who remembered my dad was hard enough. Being the daughter of  _ the _ Commander Shepard might be difficult.”

Shepard nodded, looking down at her desk and fiddling with her pen. Garrus fell silent, too. There was no solution, no guidance to give. Just a listening ear. 

“You know…” Shepard said eventually, her voice just loud enough for the terminal to pick it up, “She always calls me Jane.”

“...Well, damn.”

“I kept hoping, with time… Three years isn’t that long, but she’s growing up so fast,” Shepard said.

“Shepard, I haven’t spent that much time with the kid, but I can tell that she cares about you. Even if it’s not exactly the relationship you were hoping for, it can still be a good thing. It can still  _ mean _ something.”

Shepard kept her eyes down on the table, her finger drawing an aimless circle on the desk. She nodded again.

“I know,” she said, voice soft. She cleared her throat, then looked back up at the vid, both grateful and embarrassed by Garrus’s sympathetic face looking back at her. “Well, I should probably get some sleep. And I’m sure you have a lot going on.”

“We’re heading out tomorrow for the Terminus System. Somehow, I always seem to end up back at Omega,” he said.

“Be safe, Spectre. And say hi to Aria for me.”

Garrus laughed at that.

“Aye aye, Commander. And don’t worry too much. We made it to that brighter future, didn’t we?”

She smiled a half-smile back at him, waving her hand goodbye.

“Sure did. I’ll talk to you later.”

* * *

In the blink of an eye the first day of school arrived. Shepard spent all morning frantically ensuring that each child was properly dressed and had their datapads, lunches, access badges, and whatever else they’d need. She could have saved herself the anxiety, because both Cassia and Jun were about as eager as she was for their first day of class.

“I heard we have a whole class just on alien cultures in my school,” Jun said excitedly as he put his shoes on by the door.

“I’m just ready to meet some new people. It’s been getting boring staying at home all day,” Cassia said.

Shepard rushed them out the door and down the elevator, and together they went to drop Jun off at Kithoi Prep. His school was a little farther from home than Cassia’s, but they started earlier, and Cassia didn’t mind taking a few extra minutes to see him off.

As the wide doors and bold-typed logo of Kithoi Prep came into view, Jun’s enthusiastic demeanor seemed to fade. Taking Shepard’s hand, he slowed his steps gradually until he came to a complete stop only twenty yards or so from the front entrance. Shepard looked down and his wide eyes looked back up at her, uncertainty and nerves finally making their inevitable appearance.

“What’s wrong, Jun? Aren’t you excited for your first day?” Shepard asked.

“But I don’t know anyone. What if they don’t like me? Or what if I say something wrong?”

Shepard bent down to his eye level, smiling reassuringly and squeezing his hand.

“Starting a new thing is always scary, but I know you’ll make friends. And every night you can come home to Cassia and I, and we will always be here for you.”

Jun looked down at his feet and bit his lip. Cassia swung an arm around his shoulders and pulled him into her keel, leaning her head down and nuzzling him affectionately.

“Come on, Jun. Everyone loves you. You’ll  _ definitely _ make friends,” she said.

Jun looked up at her hopefully.

“You really think so?”

“Of course! I didn’t always have an easy time making friends with humans on Earth, but as soon as I met you I couldn’t resist you.”

Jun’s tight expression finally broke into a wide smile.

“Ok… Ok, then! I can do this!” he said.

Shepard stood up straight again, and soon Jun was tugging her towards the school with his small hand, determination in each step.

Cassia’s dropoff was a little more straightforward. Citadel Academy’s Kithoi Ward branch was small and relatively nondescript, and Cassia seemed completely unruffled as she and Shepard made their way towards the entrance.

“I can just wait outside, if you like,” Shepard said, knowing that Cassia probably wouldn’t want her to walk her inside like she had with Jun.

“Yeah. I know what room I’m supposed to go to, so I should be fine on my own,” Cassia said.

Cassia turned to go, but Shepard reached out to stop her. Cassia looked back at Shepard in surprise, but Shepard just pulled her into a quick hug. Shepard’s head fit right over Cassia’s shoulder, and it struck Shepard just how much Cassia had grown in the past three years. She was still relatively slim, and her features seemed young and slight, but at only twelve years old, she was almost as tall as Shepard. That seemed crazy by human standards, but Shepard wasn’t particularly tall and most turians grew to over six feet, so Shepard told herself she’d better prepare herself to be dwarfed by her daughter.

“Have a good day, Ok?”

“Ok.”

Cassia gave her a quick squeeze back, then headed back for the school, waving behind her as she went. 

* * *

“We spent most of the day getting to know everyone in class, and we all introduced ourselves, talked about our hobbies, what we want to do when we grow up-” Jun said excitedly around a mouthful of steamed broccoli.

“Jun, swallow your food first and  _ then  _ finish your story,” Shepard said.

Jun obediently shut his mouth and started working on swallowing, a task which took quite a while considering the large amount of broccoli he’d stuffed into his mouth.

“Cass, how was your day?” Shepard asked while Jun chewed.

Cassia played idly with the food on her plate, some kind of pan-fried Palaveni fish that she liked. She didn’t look up from her food as she answered.

“It was alright, I guess. I met a few people who seem cool.”

“It can take time to make friends,” Shepard said understandingly. “If you meet someone you like, feel free to invite them over.”

Cassia looked up from her food, her browplates raised in a gesture that seemed to say  _ “are you kidding me?” _

“I was kinda hoping to keep the whole… Commander Shepard’s adopted daughter thing under wraps. At least for now,” she said.

Shepard swallowed, then nodded.

“Oh yeah, I guess I hadn’t thought about that. Well if you want to spend time with anyone, let me know and we can work something out.”

“My class already knows you’re my mom,” Jun piped in. “It wasn’t that big a deal, Cass. Don’t worry too much.”

Cassia shot Jun an annoyed look.

“Just because it doesn’t bother you doesn’t mean it wouldn’t bother me. Besides, you’re human. It’s different.”

“Well my class asked about my name during introductions, and I just told them who mom was, and they all thought it was really cool,” Jun said stubbornly.

“I’m glad your classmates were so nice, Jun,” Shepard said, trying to stay neutral on a topic on which was decidedly  _ not neutral _ .

“Yeah! They wanted to know what you were like, what fighting the Reapers was like… Some of them asked about Cerberus and the Collectors, but I didn’t know very much about that.”

“See, that’s part of the reason why I don’t want to talk to people about it. Some people say that Jane worked with Cerberus, and that that means she only likes humans,” Cassia said.

Jun rolled his eyes and heaved a massive sigh.

“Come  _ on _ , Cassia. You know mom doesn’t only just like humans. She likes  _ you _ , obviously.”

“I’m not saying they’re right, I’m just saying that’s what some people think,” Cassia muttered.

Shepard took a sip of her water, using the motion to hide the grimace she felt coming on. She’d never really sat down with Cassia and Jun to explain her career, or to go over some of the more difficult choices she’d made during the war. At first the war had been too fresh, and they had been too young. Later.. it just never seemed like the right time. And maybe now still wasn’t the right time, but at the very least she didn’t want either of them to have any doubts as to what she thought of Cerberus.

She set her glass down and cleared her throat, and Cassia and Jun both looked towards her.

“You guys know that my ship was shot down after the geth attack on the Citadel, right?” she said.

“Yeah,” Jun said.

Cassia nodded.

“And you were… missing, for a while, right?”

“For two years, everyone thought I was dead. But Cerberus, they found my body, and they spent those two years… fixing me. Getting me healthy again. So I woke up two years later in Cerberus custody, with the Alliance and everyone else I’d known thinking I was dead.”

“What happened next?” Jun asked.

“Well, they wanted me to investigate Collector attacks on human colonies. They gave me  _ The Normandy SR-2 _ , they gave me a crew and lots of funding, and they asked me to help. I… never liked Cerberus. They weren’t as bad before the war, but they were never a group that I wanted to work with. But I knew the missing colonists was a problem, and I couldn’t work with the Alliance officially because they thought I was dead. So I looked into it.”

“So you  _ did _ work with Cerberus?” Cassia said, a slightly accusatory bent to her subvocals.

Shepard nodded very slowly.

“They suggested things for me to do, and if I agreed that it was a good cause, I would do it. I never did anything while I was working with them that I’m ashamed of. And as soon as we beat the Collectors, I cut ties with them and never looked back.”

Jun seemed satisfied by Shepard’s explanation, but the concerned look on Cassia’s face remained. Her mandibles fluttered anxiously, and she fiddled with her fork until she set it down on the table with a little too much force.

“Still, Cerberus was pro-human, anti-everyone else. How could you work with them? Even if you  _ thought  _ you were only working on good things, they could have tricked you. They could have manipulated you into  _ hurting _ people,” she said.

Trying not to let her own insecurities get the better of her, Shepard nodded understandingly and forced herself to speak calmly. She tried to see things from Cassia’s perspective, and was almost frightened by how easy it was to understand her fear and anger. She just hoped that Cassia knew her and trusted her well enough to not think the worst.

“I know. I always knew Cerberus was no good, but they turned out to be even more evil than I realized at first. At the time, I truly felt that I had no choice. It’s… it was a complicated situation, a complicated time. We can talk about it more later, if you’d like. I can tell you the whole story, in more detail. You can talk to my non-human crew members who served with me at the time. Tali, Samara, Garrus—they all worked with me while I was still associated with Cerberus, and I’m sure they worked through all the things you’re thinking right now.”

“Garrus was with you when you were with Cerberus?” Cassia asked, her mandibles falling open in surprise.

“Yeah, he was. He always said he thought of it as working with  _ me _ , and not with Cerberus, but you can talk to him about it if you like.”

Cassia’s mandibles pulled tight to her face, and she looked down at her fish, her head tilting from side to side in a gesture that generally meant she was mulling something over.

“Yeah, I think I’d like that,” she said.

They all fell silent for a long moment, only the sound of Jun scraping his fork against his plate filling the air.

“Can we talk about school again? I don’t like talking about the war,” Jun said, his voice quiet.

“Sure,” Cassia said. “Do you want to hear about my classes?”


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

_Twenty years earlier_

Jane Shepard screwed her eyes shut and held her breath, reciting the prayers she’d heard her mother say from time to time in her mind. No light penetrated through the locked doors of the cupboard her father had shoved her into._ Kick your way out once you’re safe,_ he’d said, _the lock will keep anyone from thinking someone’s in here._

As he’d shut the doors in front of her face, he’d reassured her._ I’m going to find your mother. Don’t worry, and I love you._

Three days later, Alliance soldiers broke open the locked door to find a badly dehydrated sixteen-year-old girl, still muttering prayers incoherently under her breath. The slavers had left her parents’ bodies out in the fields, together, but Shepard the Alliance soldiers found alone.

* * *

_Thirteen years earlier_

“We can’t move from this position, Lieutenant,” Sanders said, her voice a hoarse whisper in the cold night air.

“Toombs is down there. We _don’t_ leave men behind,” Lieutenant Klesov said.

The twenty or so marines who had made it out of the initial thresher maw attack huddled together behind a rocky outcropping uphill from camp, shaken and scared. The attack had been sudden, in the dead of night, and had come from directly underneath them. No amount of night watches would have caught the thresher maws when they came at them from underground.

The ground shook with the movements of the maws who still roamed their devastated camp, and Shepard’s grip tightened on her assault rifle. She didn’t think the weapon would make much difference against beasts like these, but it was the only tool she had. She thought of Toombs, his goofy smile and his lame jokes, and she squeezed her eyes shut.

“Toombs is already as good as dead. Thresher maws are large and lack sharp senses. They don’t know that we’re here. Attempting to re-engage would just reveal our position and get the entire troop killed,” Sanders said.

Lieutenant Klesov shook his head, his expression stern.

“We _don’t leave men behind_, Corporal.”

Klesov was a good leader, and Shepard liked and respected him. His family were career military, and the marine way of life ran deep in his bones. He also knew of sacrifice. His younger brother had died a few years earlier defending a colony against slavers. Toombs was about the same age Klesov’s brother would have been, had he survived.

Sanders shook her head, her deep disapproval evident on her face. Even so, she could see that she had lost.

“I know you’re scared,” Klesov said, addressing the rest of the troop, “but if we work as a team, we can win as a team. Let’s fight for our brothers and sisters in arms, and no one gets left behind.”

The remaining soldiers looked around at each other and nodded grimly, their determination fixed.

Less than an hour later, Shepard dragged her bleeding body behind a large rock at the back of the camp, injured but still alive. She knew the rock wouldn’t do much to protect her from the maws, but it still felt safer than just lying out in the open, so she did it. Once she finally reached the shadow of the rock, she collapsed onto the ground and tried to lay as still as possible. Her only hope was for the thresher maws to lose interest or think she was dead.

Klesov’s body wasn’t far from her. She could see his blank eyes staring back at her, jaw slackly open and handsome face oddly untarnished by the violence around him. She hadn’t seen Toombs. She shut her eyes tight and held her breath, her mind running through the old prayers she’d learned from her mother. Eventually, the backup Sanders had called for as soon as the initial survivors regrouped arrived. They found Shepard lying beside the rock, alone.

* * *

Shepard didn’t think back on Akuze or Mindoir much. She’d spent years reflecting on it, and it had never done her any good, so she generally tried to avoid the subject as much as possible. She’d learned a lot from both experiences. They’d taught her to be tough, taught her to be practical, taught her that chance or fate or whatever it was was often cruel. She valued these lessons, but she didn’t have to think back on their sources to retain that value, so she didn’t.

These early tragedies in her life used to be a differentiator. People would grow quiet and awkward if they heard about her backstory, wouldn’t know what to say. After the war, though, such tragedies were a dime a dozen. It was a silver lining of sorts, Shepard supposed, that so many people across the galaxy could now relate to each others’ deep personal losses. The Citadel, having been overrun by reapers and partially destroyed in the firing of the Crucible, was especially full of personal tragedy.

Despite all the loss nearly every resident of the Citadel carried with them, life continued on. Of all that she noticed those first three weeks living on the Citadel, that might have been Shepard’s favorite thing—the evidence all around her of people rebuilding and growing and living on. After all the horrors of war, it was easy to find joy in even the most mundane of tasks—easy to see peace in boredom.

Cassia and Jun had yet to find the joy in boredom. After a few weeks of excitement, both Cassia and Jun came to realize that school on the Citadel was much like school on Earth, and back again were the complaints of homework and stodgy teachers. Shepard found comfort in the evidence that life would keep going just as it had on Earth. The older she got the more she valued—craved, even—familiarity. The biggest change in the family was the exact change that Shepard had been hoping for—Cassia was happier. She’d made several friends at school—several turians, an asari, and two humans—and though she’d yet to invite any of them over, she chattered away about them on a regular basis.

Work started a few days after school, which suited Shepard just fine. She’d already started to go a little stir-crazy at home. There was plenty to do around the Citadel, but Shepard had never really liked wandering around without a purpose, so she hadn’t ventured out much in the interim between school starting and her job. Now that she headed out each day to her office at the embassies, she found more reasons to get out and explore.

She also dove into her work, which she found more satisfying than she’d expected. She read mission reports from the different Spectres and wrote up summaries of each mission with varying levels of redaction for dissemination to differing parties. As the only person with access to completely uncensored reports from every Spectre, she also looked for patterns across the challenges each Spectre faced, watching out for potential threats the Council should be made aware of.

There were only five Spectres, which took Shepard by surprise at first. Before the war, there had been a total of fifteen Spectres working across the galaxy for the Council’s ends. All but three of them died during the war, and two of the remaining chose, understandably, to retire after the Council reformed. That meant that four of the five active Spectres were newly-recruited, like Garrus.

Garrus’s reports were Shepard’s favorite to read. She could practically hear the words she read in his confident drawl, his sarcasm seeping through a clear attempt at professionalism. She could see his annoyance at filling out paperwork tempered by his father’s own words about Spectres needing accountability, and appreciated the thoroughness of his reports all the more for it.

It was a solitary job. Shepard didn’t really have any direct superiors she reported to, by design. The only people who really had authority over her were members of the Council, but they were busy and didn’t interact with her on a daily basis. But it got her out of the house, and she saw people around the embassy offices, and it gave her something purposeful to do with her time while her kids were in school. She was good at it, and she liked it.

About a month into her job, Tali made good on her promise to visit Shepard and her family in their new home.

“I finally got to the Citadel yesterday, and the first thing on my list of things to do is come see you,” Tali had said into the vidcall the morning of her visit. “Let’s have dinner _tonight_.”

Shepard was just as eager to see Tali as Tali was to see her, so she agreed immediately to the impromptu dinner, and that evening Tali arrived at Shepard’s apartment with her husband and baby in tow.

“Shepard, this is Yon’Reegar vas Rayya,” Tali said, gesturing towards her husband with the arm that wasn’t holding her one-year-old, “...I know you’ve met over vidcall before, but it feels like you need a real introduction.”

Shepard extended a hand to Yon’Reegar, and he graciously took it.

“It’s an honor to finally meet you, Commander.”

“There’s no need to be formal,” Shepard said. “Tali is practically family to me.”

“Of course.”

Shepard turned to the toddler in Tali’s arms and bent down before taking his tiny hand in hers.

“And who is this? Who could possibly be this adorable?” she said.

Tali laughed.

“I never imagined you using babytalk, Shepard.”

“Well with a face this cute, how could I not?”

“Shepard, his face is covered by a mask…” Tali said.

“Still. It’s a cute one. I can tell,” Shepard said.

“And your kids are…?” Tali asked.

“Oh! Yeah! Let me call them.”

Shepard rounded up Jun and Cassia, and they immediately crowded around Tali and her baby.

“Cassia, Jun, first you should introduce yourselves to Tali and Yon,” Shepard gently chided.

Cassia looked appropriately chagrined, and turned towards the adults for a proper introduction, but Jun stuck his lip out and pouted.

“But we already met them over vidcall! We couldn’t really meet Matei because he can’t talk yet!”

“Jun…” Shepard said warningly.

“Fine,” he muttered.

He and Cassia backed away from the child and each gave Yon a handshake, while Tali pulled them into a hug.

“It is so good to actually see you two!” Tali said, hugging first Cassia and then Jun. "To _hug_ you. To _smell_ you."

Cassia laughed.

"You're weird, Aunt Tali," Jun said. "But I like you."

They sat down to dinner—a half-dextro, half-levo feast—and Tali talked eagerly about how life was going on Rannoch.

"We're rebuilding _so quickly_, Shepard, it's hard to believe. My Matei was _born on Rannoch_. His whole generation will grow up only having known Rannoch as home."

"That's amazing, Tali," Shepard said.

"I know, right? And we won't even have to wear our envirosuits. We aren't adjusted to the Citadel's environment yet, so we have to wear them here, but on Rannoch I spend a good quarter of my time out of my suit," Tali said.

"There's been amazing progress on Rannoch, and Tali's been right in the center of it all," Yon said, smiling fondly at his wife.

Shepard couldn't help but smile in response to the clear affection with which Yon showered Tali. Tali deserved every bit of it, and more.

"I actually forgot, Tali, how did you two meet again?"

"Oh, it was not long after the war. The turians held a memorial in honor of Kal and the rest of his ship for their sacrifice on Palaven. Kal was Yon's cousin, so he was there, representing the family."

Yon nodded in agreement, his masked face tilting towards Tali as he spoke.

"Yes. I remember it being a little awkward because I was immediately interested in Tali, but she was still with Garrus at the time."

"With Garrus?" Cassia said, setting her fork of food down, "you used to be with Garrus?"

"We just met Uncle Garrus when we moved here!" Jun supplied helpfully.

Tali laughed.

"Garrus and I saw each other for a little while right after the war. I think we both knew it wouldn't last, but… well he's a great guy. Anyway, Garrus and I decided to go our separate ways not long after I met Yon."

Jun's eyebrows scrunched together, and he looked at Shepherd in confusion.

"I didn't know Garrus knew Aunt Tali," Jun said.

"Tali, Garrus, and I all served together on the Normandy, remember?" Shepard said.

"Garrus and I were the only two crew members who were with Shepard from the beginning—all the way from Saren to the Collectors to the reapers. We were very close," Tali said.

"But then why do we talk to Aunt Liara and Aunt Tali all the time, but we only just started talking to Uncle Garrus?" Jun asked.

Tali fell silent at that, her masked face turning to Shepard uncertainly. Shepard groped for the right words for a few painful moments, feeling like the whole Citadel was watching her.

"Ah… well… Garrus and I just… lost touch. Sometimes that happens, even with the best of friends. But we're going to try harder, this time," she reassured them.

Tali's mask turned down towards her food, and she pushed the quarian roasted vegetables around on her plate for a moment.

"I hope so… I know he missed talking to you," she said.

Shepard shifted a little in her chair, knowing that behind the mask Tali’s eyes were watching her.

"Yeah. Well, it will be different this time, I promise."

* * *

Tali and Yon left shortly after dinner, with Matei's increasingly audible yawns hurrying them home, and Shepard walked them all the way to their cab, not wanting to say goodbye just yet.

“I hope you can come over again soon,” Shepard said. “Cass and Jun love you, and Cassia actually mentioned recently wanting to hear about working with Cerberus from you.”

Tali’s head tilted backwards in surprise.

“Oh! Well that’s a serious topic.”

“Tell me about it,” Shepard said. She shrugged. “She’s getting older, and wants to understand things that aren’t always easy for me to explain. And I think she especially wants to hear about Cerberus from a non-human perspective.”

“Well that makes sense. I’m sure I can find a good time to bring it up with her.”

They arrived at the cab, and Yon opened the door for Tali, taking Matei from her so she could climb in more easily.

"It was so good to see you, Shepard!" Tali said as she got into the cab, "and you know, Yon and I might be here longer than we initially planned."

She said that last bit as mysteriously as possible, and Shepherd tried her best to act surprised. It wouldn't do if Tali didn't get to enjoy the big reveal of becoming the first quarian Councilor just because Liara had big ears and a big mouth.

"Then I hope to see you even more often," Shepard said.

When Shepard got back home, Cassia was already obediently doing the dishes, while Jun was asleep on the couch. Shepard woke Jun up and got him started on some homework, helped Cassia finish the dishes, then started getting ready for bed. It was a little early to turn in, but it had been a long day.

After getting the kids in bed, writing a few emails, and watching an episode of one of the soaps Tali has recommended over dinner, Shepard turned off the lights and lay in bed. As she stared up at the ceiling, she started to regret her early bedtime. If she were more tired, it might be easier to avoid the memories.

* * *

_Three years prior_

She'd heard the rumors. She'd noticed Tali spending more and more time in the main battery—walked in on several of their conversations over the comms. Hell, she even knew that Tali's favorite movie of all time starred a turian-quarian romance. Still, it came as a surprise when Shepard walked into the main battery to find Tali's arms wrapped around Garrus, his face nuzzling into her neck.

"Oh!"

Shepard couldn't help her surprised exclamation, and Garrus and Tali leapt away from each other, both stuttering nonsensical explanations for their intimate proximity. Shepard heard but didn't really absorb anything they were saying, her mind simply replaying the image of her two closest friends embracing in a tortuous, unhelpful loop.

"I'm happy for you," she heard herself saying.

Then Garrus said something painfully sincere about wanting something to come back to, and Tali made a joke that was_ just exactly_ the way she always teased him, and Shepard found an excuse to leave.

She headed straight back to her cabin, completely abandoning her initial purpose of talking over the Thannix's targeting system with Garrus. It was actually pretty important, and she didn't really have any other time to do it, which only made Shepard feel more awful.

As soon as she reached her cabin, she walked over to her bed, fell into it, and screamed into her pillow.

"Shepard, are you well?" EDI's voice asked from above.

"I'm fine, EDI. Can I get some privacy?"

"Of course."

EDI's disembodied voice disappeared, and Shepard groaned again into her pillow.

She shouldn't be this upset. She couldn't _afford_ to be this upset. But she was, and it was awful. Not only could she not be happy for her two friends, but she had let her ridiculous, unrequited feelings affect her to an unacceptable degree. She couldn't go into battle feeling like this. She couldn't work effectively with Tali and Garrus on her team if she couldn't stand to see them together. If she was going to be able to do her job, she'd need to be able to get past this, and if that meant not talking to Garrus any more, then she'd do it.

Ever since Omega she’d thought she’d had this all figured out. She’d already pulled back from both Garrus and Tali (but especially Garrus) to a large degree. She’d been professional, decisive, friendly, but distant. She’d thought that she’d accepted that her relationship with Garrus would never go beyond friendship, thought that she’d accepted that until the war was over, she’d never go beyond friendship with _anyone_. And here she was, months and billions of deaths later, moping over the loss of something she’d never had in the first place.

She rolled over onto her back and stared out at the stars above her. Trillions of lives rested on her. Garrus had said it himself. If her relationship with Garrus, platonic as it was, was going to affect her decision-making in any way, that was a risk she couldn't take.

* * *

There were many benefits to having children. The biggest, of course, was the personal fulfillment and love they filled her heart with, but a close second was that children were a nice distraction from pettier problems. By the time Shepard woke up the morning after her dinner with Tali, she had mostly moved past the morose thoughts of the night before.

Yes, it had been painful when she’d practically cut Garrus out of her life near the end of the war, but that was over three years ago. Things were different now. After the conversations they’d had, after he met Cassia and Jun, Shepard felt confident she could be friends with him again. It might still be hard at times, but she didn’t need to employ the same scorched earth policy she’d enforced before. Things could be different now.

Shepard packed lunch for Jun (Jun disliked the school lunches, while Cassia refused to bring anything from home), helped Cassia find her homework assignment, made Jun brush his hair, then got both kids to school just in time for the start of class.

Shepard took rapid transit to the Presidium, and the artificial sun was just rising over the unique upward curve of the horizon as she stepped onto the main plaza. It felt symbolic, like the universe was telling her that yes, she had endured enough tragedies for one life. That she could afford to hope for things, that she could grow attached to people, places, and dreams and not have to worry about them being snatched away. That that time of her life was over, and better and brighter future awaited.

Shepard arrived at work a half hour later feeling optimistic and almost chipper—who knew, maybe Tali’s office once she became Councilor would be nearby? She sat down at her desk and opened up her terminal, noticing first the message at the top of the list from Garrus.

_Shepard,_

_You know how you asked if my Hierarchy connections could help find the Fedissian family a few years ago? Well it turns out the reason they couldn’t find them was because the Fedissians were living on a remote colony that only recently regained relay access. Maxis Fedissian, Cassia’s uncle, finally got in contact with the Hierarchy, and he wants to see Cassia._

_Maxis and his family are coming to the Citadel, and should arrive in a few weeks. You should know before they arrive that they’re hoping to get custody of Cassia. I’ll give you more details as I know more._

_I can only imagine what you must be thinking. Let me know if you want to talk._

_-G_


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's taking me a little longer to get to where I'm heading plot-wise than I thought. Let me know if it feels like the pace is dragging. I hope you all enjoy!

* * *

Shepard didn’t tell Cassia right away. Beyond Garrus’s short email, she didn’t know a thing about the Fedissians. If they didn’t turn out to be who they said they were or if this whole meeting didn’t pan out for some other reason, she didn’t want to get Cassia’s hopes up. She also didn’t want to broach the topic at all until she had a clearer idea of what she wanted to do. She needed to make a plan of action before introducing any additional unknown variables.

This meant the first few days after receiving Garrus’s email Shepard spent agonizing internally over what to do. The entire issue had Shepard feeling like she was walking a tightrope, and the kids picked up on her anxiety.

“Jane?” Cassia said over breakfast a few days after Shepard received the fateful news, “Are you alright? You seem unhappy about something.”

Jun looked up from his cold cereal and nodded his head.

“Yeah. Is everything Ok Mom?”

Shepard nearly choked on her toast. She’d always thought she was fairly good at hiding her feelings. Sometimes she wished Jun and Cassia weren’t quite so perceptive.

“It’s nothing either of you two need to worry about,” she said.

It was good she’d be talking to Garrus about this today. That she was distracted enough for the kids to notice was a clear sign that she need to talk to someone about this.

Shepard finished breakfast, then cleared the dishes away, shooing the kids to their rooms to get their things for school. She dropped the two of them off at school, then instead of heading for the embassies, she took transit to the Silversun Promenade—a trendy part of one of the wards that had been built as a “tasteful homage” to the old Silversun Strip. She had no idea why Garrus had wanted to meet up with her here, but she let him call the shots. He was the one taking up his precious shore leave to meet up with her, after all.

It felt odd to Shepard, to not be keeping normal work hours without informing anyone or asking special leave, but that was the way her new job worked. She barely reported to anyone, so she could more or less make her own hours as long as the work got done. She didn’t even really need to work at the office at all, but she felt like it kept her more productive and got her out of the house. It also came in handy when she wanted to meet up with friends in the middle of the workday, like today.

Shepard waited at the bench Garrus had described, looking around her at the shiny new buildings. It was a lot like the old Silversun Strip, with a casino, several bars, an arcade, and a few art galleries. The whole thing reminded her far too much of her last shore leave on the Citadel, when they’d thrown that party. She half expected another clone to pop out of nowhere and start shooting at her.

Instead, she saw Garrus’s welcome face weaving through the crowd. She waved at him and he noticed her, his mandibles spreading in the turian equivalent of a wide grin.

“Shepard! Thanks for meeting me here. I know it’s not really your scene, but…”

“When you said maybe we could talk, I didn’t really picture a casino,” Shepard said with a small laugh and scratch to the back of her neck.

“Well, I figured the talking could come later. They just opened the rebuilt Armax Arena right around the corner. I thought shooting at something first might make you feel better.”

Shepard blinked in surprise at Garrus from her seat on the bench. Whatever she’d envisioned for this morning, it hadn’t been that. And yet… He was absolutely right. At this moment, she didn’t think there was a thing in the universe that would improve her mood like blowing the heads off some simulated reapers. A slow smile crept on her face.

“How do you know me so well?” she asked.

Garrus’s nervous expression eased, and he cocked his head to the side.

“I pay attention.”

They walked into the Armax Arena building together, which was much more crowded than Shepard had expected on a workday. These were grand reopening crowds, she realized. Unconsciously hunching her shoulders and keeping her eyes down, she tried to avoid attention. Whether she would have been successful on her own or not would never be known, as the tall and famous turian who was decidedly not trying to hide drew the eye of every patron in the facility.

“That’s Garrus Vakarian, isn’t it?”

“Oh, wow, it’s really him!”

“Is that Commander Shepard?”

“I hope they’re competing today.”

“I’d pay good money to watch that.”

They waded through the murmuring crowd towards the athlete’s entrance, Shepard’s face growing redder by the moment.

“I already booked us a slot, so we won’t have to wait,” Garrus said, completely unbothered by the crowds. “And don’t worry, I requested a private game.”

Shepard heaved a sigh of relief. She hadn’t been in a real firefight (aside from the kidnapping on the way to the Citadel) since the war, and she wasn’t entirely certain how rusty she was. This activity was supposed to be a simple way to relax, and there was nothing relaxing about trying to live up to your legacy in front of an entire galaxy of eager onlookers.

“Let’s start off easy. Just some basic geth troops,” Garrus said, making the selections on the touchpad.

Shepard laughed.

“Geth are only easy to you because of your tech attacks.”

Garrus scoffed.

“Well, if it’s easy for me, that makes it easy for you as well. We’re on the same team, you know.”

“Fine, fine.”

The first game went quite well. Garrus had selected basic settings, and though her movements didn’t come as quickly as they used to, they dispatched their foes with relative ease. Shepard was surprised how natural it felt ducking and dodging about, even with her prosthetics on, but she supposed she did have the top of the line equipment.

The second game was a bit harder. Shepard was a simple soldier who relied mostly on her assault rifle and grenades to get her work done. Without any biotics between the two of them, the Cerberus guardians they were facing gave them some trouble. Shepard grunted in frustration as they moved closer and closer to her, seemingly taking no damage from her constant barrage of attacks. In the past she would have been able to dodge and weave her way into a flanking position to take them out, but now she felt too slow.

“Garrus, flank!” she yelled, and obediently he sprinted from his position across a bridge to get a clear shot at the guardians. One of them was almost on her when he took the two closest guardians out in two clean sniper shots to the head.

“Nice one!” she yelled.

Garrus was better at this than he’d been before. Noticeably better, in fact. He’d already been more than formidable during the war, but now he was a force of nature. Leadership potential overshadowed by Shepard. Unlikely to fully develop under Shepard’s command. Funny how life moved on without her.

With the guardians out of the way, Garrus and Shepard cleaned the rest of the Cerberus troops up with relative ease. Once the game was over, Shepard left the arena and sat down on one of the benches in the athlete’s area, pulling her helmet off and breathing hard.

“Already winded, Shepard? Someone’s getting old,” Garrus said as he followed after her, holding his sniper rifle up with one hand and leaning it over his shoulder like he was Blasto or something. Shepard laughed.

“I am getting old, Garrus. Hell, it used to be me carrying your ass. It looks like now you’ll be doing the carrying.”

“It’s about time I returned the favor.”

Garrus offered her a hand and she took it, letting him pull her to her feet. His teasing manner dropped.

“Want to go one more round? You look like you’re starting to get back into the swing of things.”

Shepard smirked and gave him a playful shove.

“Don’t patronize me, Officer.”

“I would never,” Garrus said, his lifted brow plates the picture of shock.

“Ok, one more game. Then talk like adults.”

“Got it.”

They fought their final opponents—a motley collection of husks, cannibals, and marauders—and Shepard began to feel like her old self again. She stopped worrying about how much worse she was than before and just let herself feel the cathartic release that came with competently defeating her enemies. She had defeated the reapers, dammit. She could face whatever problem came her way.

When she left the arena dressed back in her street clothes, Shepard felt much better. There was still a deep pit in her stomach at the prospect of losing Cassia, but she didn’t feel nearly as tightly wound. She followed Garrus through the promenade to a small restaurant at the end, feeling ready to talk.

The lunch hour was already well over, so the restaurant was mostly empty. The waiter led Garrus and Shepard to a small table at the back, and Shepard wondered if Garrus had planned for the privacy, too. It wouldn’t surprise her, meticulous as he was.

They took their seats and ordered, setting their menus down and looking across the table at each other, both unsure how to start.

“So… I imagine my message must have been a surprise,” Garrus said.

Shepard nodded.

“Yeah. I hadn’t heard anything about her family for over two years, so I figured that was the end of it.”

She didn’t say I’d assumed they were dead, but the words didn’t need to be spoken.

The waiter brought over two cups of water, and Shepard grabbed hers eagerly, grateful for something to do with her hands.

“Have you decided what you’re going to do?”

Shepard nodded, then took a long sip of her drink.

“I’ve thought about it a lot, and I wouldn’t feel right keeping her from them. First I’ll meet them myself, make sure they’re good people, would treat her right, all that. Then I’ll have Cassia meet with them and decide.”

Garrus’s mandibles flapped in surprise.

“What? You’ll have Cassia decide?”

Shepard set her glass down, fighting the urge to wince. Garrus wasn’t reacting the way she’d expected, and she wasn’t sure if she could afford to doubt herself right now.

“Yes. If it were up to me, obviously, she’d stay with me. But when I first talked to Cassia about adoption, she wanted me to look for her family first. And if her uncle and aunt had been on Earth after the war, they would have taken her in. Maybe I’m just someone who… got in the way.”

“You’re Commander Shepard. You’re practically the savior of the galaxy-” Shepard scoffed, but Garrus continued, “-if you want to keep Cassia, I’m pretty sure there’s not a force in the universe that could take her away from you.”

“I know that. But say I keep Cassia with me without ever telling her about her uncle’s offer, and then she finds out on her own a few years later. How would she feel about me? Can you imagine how betrayed and upset she would feel?”

Garrus leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms under his keel, his head tilting from side to side as he considered her words.

“I don’t know. I support you whatever you do, but that feels like a big decision to put on a little kid. And it’s… Well it’s not really the turian way. Letting your kid decide their own future? No turian in their right mind would consider it.”

“Well I don’t really know how to parent like a turian. I can only do my best as a human.”

“And you’re doing a great job, Shepard. No one who’s seen you with the kids would think otherwise.”

“Ugh,” Shepard groaned, leaning forward with her forehead on the table. “This is going to hurt. No matter what I do.”

Garrus murmured a few awkward words of comfort, then the waiter arrived with their orders—a BLT for Shepard and some kind of meaty stew for Garrus. They each took a short break from the weighty topic at hand to start on their food.

Shepard watched with curiosity as Garrus slurped up the soup, then took big chunks out of the large hunks of meat suspended in the stew. The sharp teeth along either side of his jaw tore up the meat with startling efficiency. She’d seen Garrus eat before, but mostly MREs—nothing with a real bite to it. She couldn’t remember noticing Cassia’s teeth in the same way. Though she took pains to get turian food for Cassia, she wondered how much she might be unconsciously affecting Cassia’s diet.

“So it was Cassia who asked you to look for her family?” Garrus said after a few minutes of concentrated consumption.

Shepard nodded while she finished swallowing her bite of sandwich.

“Well, we both did, I suppose. I told her I wanted to take care of her not long after I met her, and asked her if she had any family she knew of. She told me she had an uncle and aunt, but didn’t even know what planet they were on.”

“It was hard enough to find people after the war even if you did know their last known location,” Garrus said in understanding.

“Yeah. I told her that I’d do my best, but asked if I could be her legal guardian in the meantime. She agreed,” Shepard said, her mind calling back to those early days of her recovery. “That’s when I reached out to you, asking if anyone in the hierarchy might know where her uncle was. After a year without even rumors of their last location, Cassia agreed to let me formally adopt her.”

“Is that how adoptions normally go on Earth?” Garrus asked.

Shepard shrugged.

“I don’t know. Jun’s adoption was different, but… Jun’s different.”

“What was his adoption like?”

Shepard picked up cup up again and swirled it around in her hand, making a mini cyclone in the glass.

“Jun came from a part of Earth where almost everyone only has one child, so he didn’t have any uncles, aunts, or cousins to even consider. He knew his parents and all of his grandparents were gone, and he was just… desperate for a family. He wanted to be adopted, wanted to call me ‘Mom.’ He and Cassia are just very different.”

“All kids are, I suppose,” Garrus said,

Conversation fell into a lull, and Shepard looked back down at her half-eaten sandwich, though she didn’t pick it up to eat.

“Well, the Fedissians should be arriving at the Citadel in a few days,” Garrus said eventually. “I’ll be meeting them and showing them to their accommodations. I can be there when you meet them, if you like.”

Shepard’s expression brightened.

“Really? But don’t you have assignments coming up?”

Garrus waved his hand dismissively.

“I requested extended shore leave.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Shepard said.

“Shepard, it was absolutely the least I could do.”

“Well then, yeah, it would be nice if you were there to introduce me.”

“And who knows, maybe the Fedissians are horrible people and you can decide right away not to expose Cassia to their awful influence,” Garrus said in an oddly cheerful manner.

Shepard chuckled, but it was a subdued sound.

“I wouldn’t hope for that. I guess… What would be easiest for me would be if they were lovely, wonderful people who wanted to see Cassia often, but not take custody of her. One can always hope.”

Garrus nodded in understanding, and Shepard sighed, burying her face in her hands.

“I don’t know Garrus, do you think I’m making the right decision? Be honest.”

She looked up from her hands to judge his response. Garrus’s small eyes looked first into Shepard’s then around the restaurant as he let out a small sigh.

“Honestly, if it was me I would tell the Fedissians, ‘Thanks for wanting to be in Cassia’s life, but you’re a few years too late to want to be her parents.’ It just seems too big a decision to put on Cassia.”

Shepard’s shoulders fell, and her stomach dropped. She didn’t think she’d be changing her mind, but this didn’t help her in terms of confidence. Garrus noticed her reaction, and quickly interrupted the downward spiral he could see starting.

“But what do I know about parenting? I support whatever decision you make.”

Shepard pulled herself from the downward spiral and nodded in gratitude. The right corner of Shepard’s mouth turned upwards in a wry smile, and she looked back at her friend with sincere appreciation.

“Thanks, Garrus. That means a lot.”

* * *

Maxis Fedissian and his family arrived at the Citadel a few days later, two kids and a mountain of luggage in tow. The colony they’d been living at when the reapers attacked was small and remote, which kept them almost entirely off the reapers’ radar and spared them practically any involvement in the conflict. The tradeoff of course was that after the mass effect relays went down, their remote corner of the galaxy was one of the last to regain contact with the rest of Council Space, explaining their three year long disappearance.

Shepard planned to meet with the Fedissians in the early evening at the Citadel embassies. Councilor Sparatus had generously made one of his nicer conference rooms available to them, so Shepard made plans to meet up with Garrus and Cassia’s extended family after leaving the kids with Tali for the evening. Shepard had never left the kids with a sitter before, but thankfully Cassia and Shepard were so excited to spend time with Tali and little Matei that they didn’t think to question the purpose of Shepard’s excursion. She left the house to sounds of happy chatter and laughter, which made her feel a little more hopeful about the whole situation. Whatever happened next, she’d managed to create a safe little home for her kids.

Garrus and the two adult Fedissians were already in the conference room when Shepard arrived, seated around the oval table in turian-shaped chairs. They stood when she arrived, and just as Shepard had rehearsed in her head, she matched right up to them and held out her hand.

Maxis took her hand and shook it. He was tall—a few inches taller than Garrus—with brownish-grey plates and white colony markings. His wife stood next to him, a good half foot shorter with more tan-colored plates and pale blue markings.

"Shepard, this is Maxis and Belana Fedissian, Garrus said.

"Jane Shepard. It's a pleasure to meet you," Shepard said.

"Please, the honor is ours," Maxis said, his voice lower and more textured than she'd expected.

"Thank you for reaching out to us," Belana said.

Shepard fought the urge to frown. It was hard to accept the thanks when a significant part of her wished they had never received her message.

"Well, shall we?" Shepard said briskly, gesturing to the chairs.

They all sat down, Shepard a little awkwardly on the angular chair. The Fedissians seemed to want to defer to her guidance, so after a moment of silent negotiation, Shepard spoke again.

"I was glad to hear that your family safely made it through the war. We had feared the worst when we were unable to contact you after the relays were damaged."

"Yes,” Maxis said, "we were lucky to be in a colony that was mostly untouched by battle, only a little unlucky in how long it took for us to get any news from the rest of the galaxy."

"As Garrus has probably already told you, Cassia's parents were killed in the initial reaper assault on Earth. I met Cassia in a hospital shortly after the end of the world, and wanted to adopt her almost immediately. She wanted to first hear if any of her remaining family members could be reached, which is when I tried to get a message to you.

"When we didn't hear anything for over a year, the adoption was finalized, and Cassia has been with me ever since."

"Yes, and we're so grateful to you for taking care of her for so long. We're sure she must have received the best care available with you," Maxis said.

Shepard nodded her thanks, though her expression remained cool.

"Of course. Cassia has wanted to get in contact with her remaining family for a long time, and I'd be thrilled for her to be able to spend time with you," Shepard said.

"We want to spend time with Cassia as well. We are so grateful to you for looking after her, but now that we know she's in need and we're available, we think she would be happiest with us," Maxis said.

His pale grey eyes looked straight into Shepard without flinching, for which Shepard gave him credit. He must have some understanding of what he was asking of Shepard, but he did not shy away from the statement.

"I… believe Cassia had been happy with me these past three years, and that she would continue to be happy with me in the future. I know that I have the resources to care for her and protect her. I know that you two are her uncle and aunt, but beyond that I know little about you. Can you assure me that you will always be able to care for Cassia? Can you promise that she will always be safe? Be happy?"

Belana's brow plates lowered, and a low rumble sounded from her throat, but Maxis placed a calming hand on her arm.

"Those are reasonable questions, Commander, and it shows that you take your responsibility to care for Cassia seriously that you would ask. We already submitted to a background check with the Hierarchy before coming here, and if you have any specific questions or requirements to make of us we are willing to make them. Please also consider that we have two children of our own, one of whom is nearly an adult. You are free to talk with them if you have questions about our ability to raise a child."

Dammit. His responses were sounding far too reasonable. Shepard exchanged a quick glance with Garrus that told her he was thinking the same thing. Guess that dismissing them as horrible people and calling it a day is off the table.

"Thank you for understanding, Mr. Fedissian,” Shepard said. "I would like to talk with them, if that's possible. And we can talk about what you propose for Cassia's living situation, schooling, and finances, as well as how often she would be able to visit me if she wishes."

Belana and Maxis's faces brightened with hope.

"-So you're saying-" Maxis started eagerly.

Shepard raised a hand.

"-I'm not saying anything, yet. If you two could provide a safe and happy home for Cassia, then Cassia and I will talk about it. But I think it's best if we hold off on the reunion until we've ironed out a few more of the details."

Maxis and Belana looked at each other, a nonverbal discussion passing quickly between them. Maxis turned back to Shepard.

"That sounds reasonable to us, Commander."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry for the delay in this chapter! My excuses are actually better than normal: I moved across the country, I had a baby, and there’s a global pandemic. I also am deep in editing my fourth draft of my original novel, and I don’t think I can stand to look at that story one more time, so this was a very nice palate cleanser. I hope this chapter’s alright--I wrote it kind of fast and didn’t edit too much because, as I said, I AM SICK OF EDITING.

“Cassia, let’s go get lunch together.”

Cassia looked up from her breakfast at Shepard across the table, her expression open and only a little confused. “Today?”

“Can I come too?” Jun said, bouncing up on his seat.

Shepard shook her head. “Jun, you have that birthday party for your friend Priya, remember?” 

Jun’s face fell… then brightened again. “Oh yeah! I got her an _ awesome _ gift!”

Shepard nodded, smiling at Jun’s perpetual enthusiasm, then looked back at Cassia.

“So? What do you think? There’s a new place on the Presidium that specializes in colonial turian cuisine,” Shepard said.

Cassia shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

Together Cassia and Shepard dropped Jun off at his birthday party, then took the rapid transit over to the Presidium. They didn’t talk much as the train whirred past the artificial lighting of the Citadel, but the silence was companionable. Shepard took comfort in that. Whatever happened next, her relationship with Cassia had developed to a point that they could share that comfortable, easy space together reserved for family. Whether Cassia called her “Mom” or not, Shepard knew that she and Cassia were family. That knowledge would help her do what she needed to do.

They got off at the main hub for the Zakera ward, and Shepard picked up a quick sandwich before leading Cassia to the restaurant that Garrus guaranteed her was the best place to get turian food on the station. Normally the Shepard-Fedissians found establishments that could serve both levo and dextro meals, but the very best turian restaurants tended to be specialty places and didn’t serve levo food. The same was true for the best human restaurants too.

Cassia's excitement for the restaurant had grown as they’d made their way there, and by the time she started looking over the menu she was glowing.

“Garrus said this was the best place on the Citadel for _ truat _,” Shepard said.

Cassia’s eyes widened. “I’ll order that then!”

Cassia’s food came in just a few minutes, and she dug in immediately. She was so eager that Shepard decided to eat her sandwich in silence while Cassia focused entirely on her food. Shepard didn’t want to interrupt what was clearly a moment for her young turian daughter. Eventually, Cassia looked up from her plate, her _ truat _over 80% done, and leaned back into the cushy seats of the booth, her mandibles lazily flapping in satisfaction.

“That is easily the best _ truat _I’ve ever had. Better than anything mom ever made.”

“Was your mom a good cook?” Shepard asked.

“Yeah! And I mean she was actually good, not like how everyone thinks their mom makes good food. She could have been a chef if she wanted.”

“And this place’s _ truat _ is even better than hers? That’s a high compliment.”

“It is,” Cassia said, nodding her head soberly.

Shepard set the remains of her sandwich down on the plate the restaurant had kindly provided for her and looked across the table at Cassia, her smile fading as she considered the young turian and how she might introduce the inevitable topic of conversation. She’d thought it over in her head a million times, but none of her plans felt quite right. Cassia’s mandibles settled and she looked back at Shepard, brow plates tilting in concern.

“Shepard? What’s going on? I mean, thank you for bringing me here and everything,” she said, gesturing to the restaurant around them, “but it feels like… I dunno, like you’re about to tell me that Jun is sick or something.”

Shepard shook her head quickly. “Oh no, no no, nothing like that. I _ do _have some news, but it’s… good news. I promise.”

Cassia’s brow plates raised skeptically.

“Yeah, that’s _ exactly _what everyone with good news sounds like,” said with her newly-developed teenage sarcasm.

Shepard couldn’t help but laugh.

“Ok, you’ve got me. I was trying to figure out the best way to say this, but I guess I’ll just come out with it,” Shepard said, her burst of humor dying. She forced her next words out as soberly as she could manage. “Your Uncle Maxis and Aunt Belana contacted the hierarchy recently. We hadn’t been able to reach them before because their system was out of contact with the hierarchy, but as soon as they were able to get in touch, they reached out, asking about you.”

Cassia’s expression cleared of all her typical tells, and Shepard had no idea what to make of the blank slate sitting across the table from her. The silence between the two stretched for many long seconds, and Shepard fiddled nervously with her hands, forcing herself to wait for Cassia to say something first.

“So… I’m going to be able to see my uncle and aunt? That’s nice. I don’t remember them super well but I’d like to see them,” Cassia said eventually.

Finally some emotion showed on her face, though her upturned brow plates only revealed confusion.

“Yeah, I thought so too. They’re actually here, on the Citadel. If you want, you can see them as soon as this weekend.”

Cassia nodded slowly, though her expression remained confused.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” she said evenly. She paused a moment, then fixed Shepard with a hard stare. “Of course I’d like to see them, but… It feels like there’s something I’m missing. Why is this such a big deal? Do you not want me to see them?”

Shepard shook her head. “No, I’ve already met them and they seem great. I don’t have any problem with you seeing them.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

Shepard sighed and braced herself. She should have known that she’d need to spell all this out for Cassia.

“They… they told the hierarchy, and me, that they were interested in becoming your guardians. They’re planning on returning to their system in a few months, and they want to take you with them. As a member of their family.”

“Oh…” Cassia’s voice became incredibly small, and as the confusion drained from her face, she looked down at her plate of _ truat _.

“You don’t have to go, not if you don’t want to,” Shepard said quickly, not wanting her to jump to any conclusions.

“But you’re saying I can? If I want to?”

Shepard grimaced, looking down at her plate and noting how different her rye sandwich looked from the purple-y mass of _ truat _on Cassia’s side of the table. Her frown deepened.

“I think… I think we should take things one step at a time. I don’t want to put such a big question on your shoulders alone, so we’ll just start with getting to know your uncle and aunt. You need to know what being in their family would be like—what it would mean. Then when the time is closer, we can talk about what you want to do next.”

Cassia nodded again, the motion appearing too regular and robotic. Her small pupils avoided Shepard, searching her surroundings for some kind of anchor as she processed the new information.

“No matter what, Cassia…” Shepard started, groping for the words that would express what she desperately needed her to know, “Whatever happens, know that I’ll always want you. As long as you want it, there will always be a place for you in this family.”

Cassia’s eyes finally focused on Shepard, and her mandibles widened in a weak smile.

“Thank you.”

* * *

_S: I told her._

_ G: Shit. How did it go? _

_ S: Alright, I guess. About as well as could be expected. _

_ G: Is she excited? Upset? _

_ S: Mostly just overwhelmed I think. I don’t think she knows how she feels yet. _

_ G: Well, it sounds like it could have been worse… Is she going to see them this weekend? _

_ S: Yeah, we planned to go over to their place for dinner. _

_ G: Hm. Got it. Well keep me posted. If you want. _

_ S: Will do. _

_ G: It’s going to be alright, Shepard. Whatever is decided will be what’s best for Cassia, and it’s going to be alright. _

_ S: Thanks Garrus. _

* * *

Cassia liked Maxis and Belana. She’d known them before, of course, but it had been awhile, and she’d never spent much time with them in her younger years. Now, though, she seemed to find in them a comfort and familiarity that brought a new buoyancy and confidence to her step. It left Shepard feeling both pleased at her improved mood and incredibly sad that she herself hadn’t been able to provide it. 

For the first few meetings Shepard tagged along, chaperoning and taking mental notes on how the Fedissians interacted with Cassia—how they might treat her if she were to leave with them. She saw minor things that her mind immediately blew up into world-ending problems—there were small indulgences the Fedissians granted Cassia that Shepard wouldn’t risk and a sharpness of tone at times that she didn’t approve of. But after each meeting, Shepard would regroup with Garrus and play it back to him, separating out her observations into legitimate concerns versus anxious overreactions. Garrus provided an excellent sounding board, helping her work out her own thoughts and feelings without injecting too much of his own opinions. At the end of the day, the conclusion was unavoidable: the Fedissians would be perfectly adequate guardians to Cassia, if that was what she chose.

After a few weeks of tentative meetings Garrus went on shore leave and Shepard stopped monitoring every second Cassia spent with her uncle and aunt. Things returned to a new normal and Cassia began spending time with the Fedissians by herself. Cassia and her uncle and aunt saw the latest Blasto film, tried out new turian restaurants, and spectated an Armax Arena match. They also started doing more mundane things: watching Cassia while she worked on her homework, taking her grocery shopping, cleaning their house together. Slowly but surely, Cassia was becoming a real part of their family, and Shepard made it clear that it was up to her if she wanted that to be a permanent arrangement.

Each day when Cassia came home, Shepard braced herself to hear those fateful words: _ I’ve decided who I’m going to stay with _. A month passed, but Cassia had yet to speak them. Shepard was tempted to give Cassia a timeline, if only for Shepard’s own sake. This torture would be more bearable if she knew when it would end. But Shepard knew she couldn’t do that. Cassia needed to be able to make the decision without any kind of pressure. Shepard would never forgive herself if Cassia ended up making a decision she regretted because she’d been rushed.

Shepard tried to look at it as an opportunity to spend more one-on-one time with Jun, but every time she thought that, her throat closed up at the thought that it might be just her and Jun from here on out.

One weekend morning Jun walked into the kitchen only to find Shepard crying over a frying pan full of eggs. Cassia had spent the night with the Fedissians, and it was obvious why Shepard was crying.

“Mom, don’t cry!” Jun said, nestling under her arm and hugging her from the side.

Shepard rubbed her eyes with her wrists and moved the frying pan off the burner to avoid ruining their breakfast. She ruffled Jun’s hair and shook her head. It shouldn’t be her nine-year-old’s job to comfort her. She should be shielding Jun from her problems, should comfort and reassure him that he would stay a loved member of their family no matter what. Choking back another sob, she sunk to her knees and hugged Jun to her.

“I’m sorry, Junie. I didn’t mean to upset you,” she said.

“Don’t worry, mom. Cassia’s going to stay with us,” he said, with the confidence only a boy his age could muster.

“You’re probably right,” Shepard said, trying to believe herself.

Wanting to distract Jun from her moment of weakness, Shepard took Jun to the astro museum in the Kithoi Ward and spent the rest of the day looking at spaceships. Jun babbled over his favorite models, reciting top speeds and weapons capabilities, and for a few hours even Shepard was able to forget her worries.

Shepard expected Cassia to be home by the time she and Jun got back in the evening, but she wasn’t there. Shepard cooked a dextro-friendly meal for Cassia anyway, packing it away in the fridge for her when Jun and Shepard finished their levo meal and Cassia still hadn’t appeared. Trying to shake off her displeasure, Shepard settled Jun and herself in for a relaxing movie night. Halfway through _ Teenage Ninja Kwanzaa Force 4: Revenge of the Teens _ Shepard was _ this close _to calling in a special forces task force to bring Cassia home. She was spared this extremity when Cassia walked into the living room, offering a quick goodnight to Shepard and Jun and heading straight for her room.

“Cassia, wait a second” Shepard said.

Cassia turned on her taloned heal and faced Shepard, a decidedly-teenaged sigh escaping her mouth plates. “Yes?”

“It’s late.”

“It’s still fifteen minutes before my curfew.”

“If you’re going to cut it this close just let me know first, alright?”

Cassia rolled her eyes, and Shepard wondered if that was a normal turian gesture, or if she’d picked it up from living with Jun and Shepard.

“Fine. I’ll let you know next time,” Cassia said.

“You’re going out with the Fedissians again tomorrow?” Shepard asked.

“Yeah. They’re taking me to the Armax Arena.”

“What time will you be home?”

“Earlier. I’ll be back before dinner.”

Shepard nodded her approval, and Cassia turned back to her room.

“Hey Cas?” Jun said, halting her retreat. “When are you going to tell the Fedissians that you’re not going with them? I think you might be getting their hopes up.”

Cassia froze in her tracks, her back to Shepard and Jun. The tension in her crest was visible, and the silence stretched for what felt like forever.

“Jun, we’re giving Cassia time to decide,” Shepard said, fighting to keep down the lump in her throat.

“But what is there to decide? We’re a family.”

Cassia turned around, her face plates expressionless. She didn’t seem to know what to say.

“Yes, we’re a family,” Shepard said as calmly as she could manage. “And we’ll always be a family. But the Fedissians are also Cassia’s family, and there’s nothing wrong with her spending time with them. Even living with them, if that’s what she wants.”

Jun frowned, his dark eyebrows knitting together in a rare display of displeasure. “That’s stupid, Cas. You should just tell them you’re staying with us.”

“Jun, she hasn’t decided yet. End of discussion,” Shepard said.

“But-”

“I _ said _ end of discussion.”

The room fell silent again, and Cassia shifted from one foot to the other.

“I’m going to sleep…” Cassia said eventually, then turned and went to her room.

Jun hunched over on the couch, his arms folded tightly across his stomach. Shepard turned back to the TV, silently watching the end of the movie they’d been ignoring since Cassia’s return. She didn’t absorb any of it, which was fine. It was nonsense anyway.

“Mom?” Jun said, voice quiet. “Is Cassia really going to leave us?”

Shepard screwed her eyes shut and shook her head. “I don’t know.”

* * *

_G: Hey Shepard, I got a message from Cassia saying she wants to talk to me, one-on-one. Just wanted to check with you if it’s ok. I can take her out for lunch or something next time I’m on the Citadel._

_ S: Oh. Did she say what she wanted to talk about? _

_ G: No, but I assumed it’s about her uncle and aunt. Would you rather I leave it to you? Or talk with her when you’re there? _

_ S: No, it’s probably good for her to talk to someone she trusts who’s neutral. _

_ G: Shepard, I may not be directly involved, but I’m definitely not neutral. _

_ S: You’re not? _

_ G: Of course not. You and the crew of the Normandy were the best family I’ve ever had. Why wouldn’t I want that for Cassia? _

_ S: Thanks Garrus. That means a lot. _

_ G: It’s the truth. _

_ S: Well anyway, you have my permission to talk to Cassia next time you’re on the Citadel. _

_ G: Great. I’ll make plans for next week then. _

_ S: You’ll be back next week?? _

_ G: Yep. Taking some time off for Solana’s birthday. _

_ S: Just how much shore leave do you get? _

_ G: Being a Spectre has its perks. _

_ S: Really? The only perks I got as a Spectre were busting my ass trying to save the galaxy and a few shiny medals. _

_ G: Timing is everything. _

* * *

Garrus and Cassia set up their meeting, and the whole week leading up to it Shepard was on pins and needles. She and Garrus agreed that Cassia would need privacy, so Garrus didn’t tell Shepard what he planned to say and wouldn’t be discussing what Cassia had said afterwards. It was a special brand of torture Shepard was only willing to put herself through for the sake of her kids.

The night Csasia came home from her meal with Garrus she looked thoughtful, but her expression betrayed nothing of what she was thinking. Shepard asked how lunch was, and all Cassia would respond with was a noncommittal “Good.”

After putting Jun and Cassia to bed, Shepard couldn’t resist sending a quick message on her omnitool.

_ S: How did it go? _

Garrus responded almost immediately.

_ G: Good, I think. _

_ S: You think? _

_ G: Shepard… _

_ S: I know, I know. I said I wouldn’t pry. I’m just going crazy here. _

_ G: I know. But try not to worry. Cassia’s a smart girl, and she’ll be alright no matter what. _

_ S: Try not to worry? Hah! _

_ G: An impossible task, I know. But that’s always what you’ve been good at. _

* * *

The next day Cassia spent entirely with the Fedissians. Shepard didn’t get the whole itinerary, but she understood they’d be going shopping, visiting a war memorial where some of their family was honored, and searching for more authentic turian food. Shepard and Jun did their best to busy themselves throughout the day, but as the night cycle turned the lights of their neighborhood dark, Cassia sent a message that she’d be home a few hours past curfew.

After confirming with the Fedissians that nothing was amiss. Shepard sent Jun to bed then settled in on the couch for the traditional parental vigil. As she watched reruns of the serialized spinoff of _ Fleet and Flotilla _, she wondered idly if this would be the only time she’d get to stay up fretting over a teenaged Cassia or not.

Cassia arrived home a few hours later, her arms full of shopping bags and a distressed look on her face. As soon as Shepard saw her fluttering mandibles, she knew her daughter had made her decision. Locking eyes with Shepard, Cassia set her bags down by the door and walked slowly over to the couch.

Shepard turned off the show and sucked in a deep breath of air, bracing herself before shifting in her seat to face Cassia. Cassia sat down on the couch next to Shepard on the portion of the sectional designed for a turian body. Cassia looked almost ill, and Shepard told herself she wouldn’t cry.

“How was your day?” Shepard asked, figuring if she started talking first it might make things easier for Cassia.

“Fine….” Cassia trailed off, and they both sat there in silence for several long moments. Cassia shook her head and leaned back into the couch like she was sitting in a too-fast skycar. 

“Mom?” Cassia said, turning to Shepard again.

Shepard’s eyebrows rose, and she wanted to say something in response but didn’t know what to say.

“Mom....” Cassia said again, like she was testing how the word felt on her tongue. “I told Uncle Maxis and Aunt Belana that I wouldn’t be staying with them.”

It felt like the cybernetics holding together Shepard’s heart all short circuited at once. Her eyes widened, and after a short delay she started to cry in spite of her earlier commitment to herself. 

“Really?” Shepard choked out.

Cassia squirmed on the couch, her mandibles fluttering rapidly in a gesture Shepard thought of as the turian equivalent of tears. 

“Is that ok?” Cassia asked. “I know I made you wait a long time.”

“Oh, honey,” Shepard said, rushing over to Cassia and gathering her up in her arms. “It’s _ more _than ok.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the long wait! Hopefully you enjoy this chapter. This chapter basically inspired the whole story, and I'm excited to finally reach it! Also, please note that there is some pretty minor dubious consent here. I don't think it's enough to merit an archive warning, but let me know if you think it does.

Life didn’t change substantially after Cassia made her decision. The Fedissians weren’t leaving the Citadel for another month, so Cassia continued to spend evenings and weekends with them, and Jun and Cassia both still attended school, did chores and homework, and otherwise lived their normal lives. The rhythm of life didn’t change, but the way Shepard experienced it was completely altered. She felt a safety and security, a renewed confidence in her family and its permanence. Her heart no longer hurt every time Cassia walked out the door; she no longer felt a stab of doubt every time Cassia left to spend time with her uncle and aunt that she might never return.

She needed to express her gratitude to Garrus before he left the Citadel, but she was nervous to approach him. If she’d felt jittery and shy with affection for him before, now she was almost overwhelmed with how much he meant to her. With all the help and guidance he’d given Cassia, he almost felt like a guardian angel for Shepard’s family, like the architect of Shepard’s happiness. Cassia had needed a turian perspective that she trusted, and Garrus had stepped in to fill the gaps in what Shepard could do for her daughter. Shepard worried that the next time she saw him, all these thoughts and feelings would come gushing out and Garrus would be frightened by his unrecognizably emotional commander.

In the end Garrus made things easy for her by reaching out first.

_G: Hey, still on the Citadel for Solana’s birthday. She’ll be leaving Tuesday, but I don’t ship out until Wednesday. Drinks Tuesday night?_

_S: Sounds good. Meet up at Shangri-La?_

_G: Sure. Meet me at the bar._

“Mom, who are you talking to?” Jun asked from where he lay on the floor, holding a datapad in his hands and kicking his feet back and forth.

“Garrus.”

Cassia perked up. “Can he come over? I’d love to see him again before he leaves.”

Years of training hid any disappointment from Shepard’s face. She’d been looking forward to some adult recreational time, but family time with Cassia had been extra meaningful lately, and she knew how much Cassia looked up to Garrus.

“Sure, I’ll ask him,” she said before pulling up the messages on her omnitool again.

_S: Actually, would you like to come over for dinner instead? The kids would like to see you._

He didn’t respond right away, which was fine. He’d responded to her other messages immediately, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. A half hour passed, and Shepard spent it belligerently productive helping Cassia with her homework. Then halfway through a particularly tricky math problem Shepard’s omnitool dinged, and she jumped to check the messages.

_G: Sure, I can come over for dinner. But drinks afterwards, alright? I get the sense you could use a break. I already asked Tali if she could babysit._

Shepard grinned down at her omnitool. Sometimes it felt like Garrus could read her mind. It reminded her of sleepless nights back in the war when he’d anticipated her orders before they’d even begun to percolate in her mind.

_S: Sounds great. You get me._

_G: Great minds think alike. Ashley told me that one once. I always liked to think it applies well to us._

_S: You’re one cocky bastard, you know that?_

_G: Well all that unearned confidence came in handy during the war._

_S: That it did. See you at 0600?_

_G: I’ll be there._

* * *

“But Blasto is totally exploitive!” Cassia said.

“No it’s not!” protested Jun from across the table, his mouth still full of sticky noodles. There was no way he knew what ‘exploitive’ meant, but he had to defend one of his favorite movies from an obviously negative attack.

Shepard, Cassia, Jun, and Garrus sat around the Shepard-Fedissian dinner table, cartons of dextro and levo-takeout spread across the tabletop in a glorious display of greasy intergalactic cuisine.

“Do you even know what that word means, Cass?” Shepard asked.

“Yeah, of course. It’s like… taking advantage of someone. Anyway Blasto is exploitive because it treats the Hanar like their whole culture is entertainment.”

“Hmm,” Garrus said, his subvocals humming in thought. “What about the movies is taking advantage of Hanar culture?”

“Well, the Hanar are really serious about their religion, but in the movies everyone laughs when Blasto says, ‘Enkindle this.’” Cass reasoned, holding her fork out in one hand as she explained. “And… Well everyone likes to watch Blasto, but then they make fun of Hanar in real life.”

“That’s a very thoughtful, well-reasoned take,” Shepard said, impressed. Cass really was growing up so fast. Maybe she’d become a lawyer or a politician one day. Once that thought would have irked Shepard—those were not professions she particularly respected—but seeing her daughter’s natural aptitude might help her change her tune.

“You make a good argument, but what would you say if I told you that four of the seven Blasto movies were written and directed by Hanar?” Garrus countered.

Cassia opened her mouth, then closed it, her mandibles floundering in empty air for a moment. “Is that true?”

Garrus nodded solemnly. “It is. So is it still exploitive if it’s one of the Hanar doing the exploiting?”

Cassia’s eyebrow plates furrowed in concentration as she considered Garrus’s question. “Well…” she started slowly, “I think that would depend on-”

“-Uncle Garrus, don’t pay attention to her,” Jun said. “She just wants an excuse to watch _The Fault in Our Envirosuits_ instead of_ Blasto 7: A View to Enkindle_.”

Garrus’s pale blue eyes widened, and he turned to Cassia in overacted shock. “Is this true?”

“Well, um,” Cassia said sheepishly. “We _always_ watch what Jun wants to watch!”

“So the truth comes out…” Shepard said seriously.

“It’s not fair! I’m sick of Blasto!” Cassia said.

“But it’s my turn! And I want to watch _A View to Enkindle_!”

Garrus shook his head solemnly and looked first to Jun, then at Cassia. “It looks like you two will have to learn to compromise.”

“I compromise _all the time_-“

Garrus caught Shepard’s eye across the table-turned-battlefield, a distinctly-Garrus twinkle in his blue eyes. Shepard couldn’t help but grin. The four of them enjoying a meal together, laughing and teasing and breaking bread—it felt right. Not only did it feel right, it felt familiar and almost eerily similar to the dreams Shepard had long harbored in the most private, guarded part of her heart.

Shepard’s grin fell, and she rose from the table to get dessert from the kitchen. She couldn’t let herself get carried away. Garrus would be a great uncle to Cassia and Jun, but she shouldn’t wish for anything more.

Tali arrived soon after dessert was served, and Shepard changed into something more appropriate for the club before saying goodnight to the kids and getting into a skycar with Garrus.

Shangri-La had been rebuilt from the burnt-out husk of Purgatory, and its layout was roughly the same. Colorful lights and upbeat music lent the club a lighter, less oppressive atmosphere than its predecessor, which Shepard appreciated. The unceasing tension and dread that had always seemed to hang over Purgatory felt like a distant, unwelcome memory, and it was comforting to see that same space transformed into something more hopeful.

Garrus and Shepard walked into the club and made a beeline for the bar, bypassing the dance floor that felt too much like the realm of the young now.

“Turian brandy, neat,” Garrus practically purred to the bartender, then looked to Shepard for her order.

“Hmm… I guess I’ll also have brandy. Got any Serrice Ice Brandy?” Shepard asked.

“Sure do,” the bartender said. “You’ve got some expensive taste.”

The corner of Shepard’s mouth quirked upwards in a wry grin. “Gotta use all that retirement money for _something_.”

The bartender served them their drinks and they turned back towards the dance floor, both leaning casually against the bar with drinks in hand.

“So, what do you think Shepard?” Garrus asked after taking a moment to enjoy his brandy. “Is Blasto ‘exploitive’?”

Shepard laughed. “I don’t know. It all seems in good fun to me, but I honestly don’t know that many Hanar. What I’m more curious about is how a twelve year old like Cass got to thinking about this.”

Garrus shrugged. “It probably came up at school. Her last group project included a Hanar classmate.”

Shepard raised her eyebrows in surprise. “She talks to you about her projects?”

“Yeah,” Garrus said casually. “It came up when we got lunch that last time.”

Shepard’s heart twinged and the image of the two of them sitting around the table with Cassia and Jun returned with full force to her mind. Maybe it was the brandy, but a sudden surge of longing nearly overwhelmed Shepard. Maybe she should tell him about this vision of hers. He was single, right? What’s the worst that could happen?

“Hey Shepard,” Garrus said, “think she’s checking me out?”

Shepard jolted from her reverie and looked in the direction Garrus indicated, towards a young turian woman with striking red markings who was looking in their direction. Shepard’s gaze darted back to Garrus, and she quickly downed a hefty swallow of brandy.

“Um, I don’t know. I’m not very good at reading turian body language.”

Garrus scoffed. “That’s bullshit. You can read me better than my own father.”

Shepard crossed her arms over her chest and looked down into her glass, fidgeting uncomfortably. “I can read you, maybe. But not other turians.” She chanced another glance towards the female turian on the dancefloor. “She’s a little young for you, isn’t she?”

Shepard wasn’t really sure if that was true, since age was a little difficult for her to tell on turians, but Garrus looked abashed.

“Not _that_ young. Besides, it’s not like I’m an old fogey yet. I’m gonna go talk to her.”

“...Godspeed,” Shepard said, immediately hating herself for it. It was one thing to pine away in silence for years, it was entirely another to _help_ Garrus get laid. That was a bridge too far.

Shepard nursed her brandy as Garrus went off in search of his would-be paramour, her eyes staring blankly out at the crush of bodies of all species on the dancefloor. The optimism and good cheer of the early evening disappeared, and Shepard grew increasingly disappointed with herself for it. Garrus deserved to find someone and be happy, and she needed to find a way to be content with the friendship they had.

Garrus weaved his way back towards Shepard sooner than she’d expected, a pleased look on his face.

“How’d it go?” Shepard asked with forced cheer.

“Got her contact info,” he said with a smirk. “I’ll talk to her later though—I came here to spend time with you, Commander.”

Shepard couldn’t help but smile at that, and together they turned back to face the bar. She ordered another brandy, and Garrus switched it up with a Drossix Blue.

“To old friends!” Shepard said, raising her glass to his.

“To new families,” Garrus responded.

The brandy was doing its work, and Shepard was starting to feel better again when Garrus got that excited look on his face, the look he mostly reserved for fancy sniper rifles or giant cannons. It was so achingly _Garrus_ that Shepard couldn’t help the easy grin that spread across her face.

“Shepard, I shouldn’t be the only one to go home with an omnitool address,” he said eagerly. “We need to find someone for you too.”

Shepard’s easy grin faded somewhat, but the brandy had her feeling good enough that she mostly brushed it off. “I’m fine, Garrus. I have everything I need.”

“I’m not saying you don’t, but why not add a nice guy to the mix too? Or girl, I don’t know. Nobody could ever really get a read on your type.”

_Yeah, and that was very intentional,_ Shepard thought to herself wryly.

“Look, I haven’t even _talked_ to a guy in-”

“Oh, so it _is_ guys?” Garrus cut in with a sly look.

“Maybe,” Shepard said, her eyes challenging. Maybe she could hint at it? Maybe this was her chance? “What’s it to you?”

“Well what about that guy?” Garrus said, jerking his head in the direction of a middle-aged professional type a couple seats down from them at the bar. “He’s been making eyes at you all night.”

Shepard laughed into her drink. “No he hasn’t you filthy liar.”

“Hey!” Garrus yelled over to the man. Shepard panicked and elbowed him in the stomach, but he continued, undeterred. The man looked up. “Hey you! Why don’t you buy my friend here a drink?”

The man looked first at Garrus in surprise, then turned his smiling gaze to Shepard as Garrus’s words sank in. Shepard looked back down into her drink, her cheeks heating despite herself.

The man made his way over to where they sat at the bar, sidling up next to Shepard farther in her personal space than she would like. Despite the unnecessary closeness, he had a warm presence about him that was pleasant, and his open appreciation of Shepard was flattering. Shepard tugged her black, knee-length dress a little farther down her knees, always conscious of the line separating her natural leg from her prosthetics. Though with her body, whose to say which parts were natural and which weren’t? She was so used to feeling different and somehow defective in her body, it was nice to have someone see it and obviously like what they saw.

“What would the lady like?” the man asked, an easy grin gracing his features.

Shepard had to admit, Garrus had picked well. The man had thick dark hair that was just long enough to reveal a wave, and salt-and-pepper stubble added texture to his well-defined features. He reminded Shepard of what she’d always imagined Kaidan would look like older, which made her sad.

“I’m really fine, thank you.”

“No, no!” Garrus insisted. “Ignore that. She’ll have an Old Fashioned.”

“What!?” Shepard said.

“I remember what you like! Don’t tell me you don’t want one,” Garrus said.

“One Old Fashioned for the lady,” the man said to the bartender.

The bartender started mixing the drink for Shepard, but she held out a hand to stop him.

“No, really,” she said, turning towards the man. “Thank you, but I’m fine. I’m not really ready for… all this.”

“I understand,” the man said gallantly, though she could see the disappointment in his eyes. Maybe she should at least talk to him… It might help her get past the giant turian in the room.

“Shepard, you gotta give the man a chance,” Garrus protested.

The man had started to leave, but stopped and turned back towards them. “Shepard? As in Commander Shepard?”

“Ah, shit,” Garrus said.

“I thought you looked familiar!” the man said. “Can I just say what an honor it is? I have to get you a drink now, just as a thank you.”

A frown established itself on Shepard’s face, and she remembered why she had decided not to do this kind of thing. “That’s really not necessary-”

“No, it’s the least I can do.”

“Shepard?” a Quarian sitting next to them at the bar said, looking over at them. “Did he say Commander Shepard?”

“Woah!”

“Is that really her?”

Awareness of Shepard’s presence spread throughout the club like wildfire, and she shrank down into her barstool, clutching her near-empty glass of Serrice Ice Brandy tightly in her scarred hand.

Garrus plucked the drink from her hand and set it on the table, then quickly paid the bartender, including a generous tip, and pulled Shepard from the bar.

“Sorry, friend, we’ve got to get going,” he said to the man, and dragged Shepard through the crush of people and towards the exit.

“I’m sorry, Shepard, I shouldn’t have-” Garrus said, cutting himself off with a heavy sigh. “You ok?” he said, looking back at her with piercing eyes.

“Yeah,” she said, letting herself be pulled through the crowd. “But I wouldn't mind getting out of here.

“Of course. Of course,” Garrus said.

They left the club and the cool air hit Shepard with sobering force, providing both relief to her flushed features and a return to normal, everyday life where she didn’t consider flirting with strange men at bars or confessing her years-long infatuation with her old friend.

“Well, I should probably get home,” Shepard said, checking the time on her omnitool.

“Come on, Shepard, the night is still young and Tali said she’d watch the kids until tomorrow morning! Don’t let my mistake ruin your evening.” Garrus protested.

“It’s fine, Garrus. It was really nice to get out of the house, but I’m feeling tired.” She shifted her weight from one prosthetic to the other, and she didn’t have to feign the ache in her artificial joints.

“Well, why don’t we go to my place first? I have drinks there—dextro and levo. We can just… relax and reminisce for a bit. Please? I’m leaving tomorrow—probably won’t be back to the Citadel for a while.”

Shepard let out a heavy breath, but nodded. How could she say no to that? “Let’s go, then. I’m curious to see your place.”

* * *

Garrus’s apartment wasn’t flashy or big, but security and quality were evident in the tinted windows, anti-bugging security system, and sleekly modern furniture. Shepard floated through the entryway in a pleasantly buzzed haze, following Garrus to a couch in the living room. She sat down while he went to retrieve some beers from the fridge, and soon they were both leaned back on the couch, drinks in hand and memories on the tips of their tongues.

“That brandy, that was Chakwas’ favorite, right?” Garrus asked.

Shepard nodded. “Sure was. Remember that time we got totally wasted in the medbay of the SR2?”

“Do I ever. You know the main battery was right next door, right? I was an unwilling audience to your _multiple_ renditions of the Alliance anthem.”

Shepard couldn’t suppress a laugh. “Those were good times! We had to find some way to have fun on a suicide mission.”

“Oh, I don’t begrudge you the singing. Everyone needs to unwind and take some of the stress off. Which is why I still think you should have accepted that drink at Shangri-La.”

Shepard shook her head lazily before taking another pull from her human-friendly beer. “Why? You saw how he reacted when he found out who I was. I was never gonna… he was never gonna… it wouldn’t have worked.”

Garrus sighed and stretched, his arm resting on the top of the couch behind Shepard’s head. “Maybe he would have gotten past it after a little. Or maybe you’ll meet someone else who won’t react the same way. That doesn’t mean you should never try.”

Shepard screwed her eyes shut, her head swimming pleasantly, and nestled further into the couch. The movement incidentally moved her closer to Garrus’s side. “Not worth it.”

“Look, Shepard. I don’t mean to be a nag but everyone can see that you’ve been lonely. Why not, you know, let someone in?”

“I do. I let you in. Liara. Tali. Joker.”

“Yeah, but there’s a difference between what a friend can do and… something more. Besides, even with us there’s a wall.”

Shepard’s mood sobered, though she remained chemically very much inebriated. “I know. I’m… I’m working on that.”

Garrus let his arm drop down from the top of the couch to rest on her shoulder, and his talons gently pressed into her skin as he squeezed her to his side. “It was hard, during those last few months of the war. Everyone, _everyone_, could see how hard it was for you, and you wouldn’t give yourself any breaks. Wouldn’t give anyone the opportunity to share the burden.”

“Well it worked, didn’t it?” Shepard, snapping as much as her slow tongue would allow. “I got the job done.”

Garrus pulled back, his hand releasing her arm. “You’re right, I’m sorry, I… I just wish it hadn’t been so hard on you.”

The hurt in his alien features was obvious, and Shepard felt like a bitch. She sighed and grabbed his hand, pulling it back over her shoulder before nuzzling further into his side. “I’m sorry, I know what you’re saying.”

Garrus hummed happily, the vibrations resonating with her bones as she closed her eyes. They fell into a companionable silence for a while, arms and legs shifting every once in a while to wrap their bodies further around each other. It felt damn good, although Shepard knew Garrus was just being his drunk, overly-friendly self. She wasn’t complaining.

“Your legs look good,” Garrus said after a while, and Shepard looked up at him in confusion.

“What?”

“Damn,” he said, scratching the side of his head with the hand not wrapped around her. “I mean, the prosss… prosthetics. You look comfortable. Are they working well?”

Shepard’s heart rate returned to a normal pace, and she nodded. “Yeah. Not like my old legs, but they’re pretty good. Can’t complain.” She looked down at her legs, a large expanse of her scarred thigh visible where her dress had ridden up, and rubbed at them absent-mindedly. “Scarred to hell, but they work alright.”

Garrus chuckled. “I know a little something about being scarred to hell,” he said, a single talon tapping ruefully against the rough and mottled carapace of the right side of his face.

Shepard leaned forward, her nose almost touching his mandible. She tilted her head, inspecting the scars carefully. Almost of its own volition, her hand raised to the scar tissue, fingers just ghosting over the wound.”

“Do you have any sensation here?” she asked.

“Not like your skin,” he said with a low, nervous chuckle.

“Hmmm…”

Shepard considered the scar for a moment longer, then leaned even farther forward and licked the damaged tissue with her tongue. She dragged her tongue slowly down the length of his mandible, taking the time to soak in every piece of information her senses were feeding her. She’d wanted this for so long—maybe not specifically the licking, but some kind of contact. It was smooth, with a bit of fascinating texture mostly provided by the scar, and not as warm as she’d expected, given what she knew about turian body temperature. The few times she’d let herself wonder what it would be like to feel him, she’d always thought it would seem alien and exciting. But strangely, this didn’t feel foreign. It just felt… nice.

Somewhere in the back of her head Shepard knew she was crossing some kind of line, but she didn’t allow the thought any conscious purchase in her mind. Garrus was here, and close to her, of his own volition, and it felt so nice.

“Uh… It’s not as sensitive as your skin, but that doesn’t mean I can’t feel _anything_, Shepard,” Garrus said, his voice wavering a little.

Shepard’s tongue reached its final destination at the bottom of his mandible, and she angled her head so she could close her mouth around the end of it. She brought her other hand to his hip, quickly sliding up the sharp indent of his waist and to his chest. He felt solid and strong under her hands, and she wanted to touch more of him.

“Shepard!” he gasped, jerking away from her.

She tumbled inelegantly off of his lap, landing somewhere on the other end of the sofa in a blinking, muddled mess.

“Shepard, you’ve- you’ve obviously had too much to drink,” Garrus said, first helping her to sit up, then getting as far away from her as possible on the long couch.

Shepard sat obediently where he’d placed her, looking back at Garrus with growing horror as she realized not only what she’d done, but how he’d reacted. Drunk and feeling exposed and vulnerable, all of her emotional defenses were gone. Big, fat tears started to fall from her eyes, and she hid her face in shame.

“I’m s-s-sorry, Garrus. I’m so sorry.”

"It's… it's fine, Shepard, please don't be upset. It was just unexpected, and… well it's my duty as your friend to protect you from drunken regrets."

Regret? A part of Shepard definitely regretted this, because now she had that definitive rejection—the one she'd always expected but never confirmed to be 100% inevitable. But another part of her thought, since she'd never have Garrus anyway, at last now she'd always know what it felt like to hold him, to touch him romantically. Did that make her a bad person? It probably did.

Feeling even more unworthy of Garrus's friendship at the thought, Shepard staggered to her feet.

"I'm sorry to bother you, I should go," she slurred.

She took one step towards the door and immediately tripped, Garrus leaping to his feet to catch her. He steadied her a moment, then looked her in the eyes.

"I don't think you want Cassia and Jun to see you like this. Tali will still be with them for a few more hours. Stay here and sleep it off, then I'll take you home."

He spoke slowly and clearly, lifting up her chin when her head started to droop to make sure he kept her attention.

"Fine," Shepard said after a brief internal struggle.

It wasn't like any of her decisions today had been any good. Might as well let someone else be in charge.

"Good."

Garrus swung her arm around his shoulders, then walked her to his room, helping her fall into his bed. She lay sprawled out on it for a moment, then started to cry again. This wasn’t how she'd imagined getting into Garrus's bed.

".. Are you alright, Shepard?" Garrus's voice asked from somewhere above her.

She wiped first her eyes, then her snotty nose with her sleeve, then nodded.

"I'll be fine."

"Ok. I'll be in the living room—let me know if you need anything."

“Alright.”

The door closed, leaving Shepard in total darkness in Garrus’s room. The darkness was the same no matter where she looked, but she still directed her sight up at the ceiling, her hazy mind careening wildly between guilt and embarrassment and horror at what she’d done. The last thing she remembered thinking was a fervent prayer to whoever might be watching over the universe that this not end her friendship with Garrus.


End file.
